Gold and Ivory
by LeilaEditer
Summary: Two countries at war, two races at play. One boy with a Gift. Four girls who understood. The Three of Them who planned it all. It's not as simple as black and white anymore. Everything is red, blue, and green, and the world will never be the same.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back! Did you miss me? Probably not, but hey, I'm here anyway.**

 **I've been working on this new project for quite a while, and I'm pretty excited. It was inspired by the theories that WiiU Link was raised by the Gerudo (lightsintheskye on tumblr's art really got me) and the lovely tiger's _The King's Bride_ (which is awesome and you all should go read).**

 **I don't want to give too much away, but that's the basis. I hope you enjoy!**

 **~Leila**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda or any of its characters. Only the plot is mine.**

 ** _Gold and Ivory_ is rated T for language, some violence, and probably some innuendos. Read at ya own risk.**

* * *

 _there were grief and ruins, and you were the miracle._

* * *

 **[prologue]**

"Good morning, little bug," Nabooru called softly, brushing past the curtain that obscured the tiny room from the rest of the house.

She received no answer, but she didn't expect to. The boy could sleep through a marching band playing in the hail while a full-scale nuclear war waged in his bedroom.

"L _iiiiiiiii_ nk," she sang, pulling open his curtains and letting the light stream in.

Still, nothing.

Nabooru frowned. Usually the sunshine did the trick.

She went to sit on the edge of the pile of rugs, blankets, and pillows he insisted on calling a bed. She liked to call it a nest.

"Link, it's time to get up."

Silence.

"Alright, you're asking for it buddy," she warned, a devious smile spreading on her lips.

She yanked back the top blanket, expecting a groan of protest... but found nothing but a pile of pillows instead.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, smile vanishing.

"Where...?"

Jogging back down the stairs, she found the kitchen and sitting room still empty, as was the courtyard.

"Link? Where are you?"

 _Maybe he took a Wing?_

Yet both hoverboards were leaning in their usual places by the front door.

Her eyes narrowed. Where was that boy?

A loud cry from outside drew her from her thoughts.

"Link?"

She walked back out into the courtyard, looking around.

Nothing.

Another sound, this time laughter.

 _Male_ laughter.

Nabooru followed the happy sound through her home until she reached the archway opening up into the backyard. Makeshift targets had been set up on the mesquite trees, and two boys could be seen standing side by side.

Her worry melted away completely, and she leaned against the wall with a smile.

Link held a bow that was at least three sizes too big for him, while the older boy spoke in gentle tones and adjusted his hands.

"Go on, try again," she heard him say.

Link drew back the string, and Nabooru could picture his face clearly. He had a tendency to scrunch up his whole face and bite his lip when deep in concentration.

He loosed the arrow, and it buried itself on outer edge of the bullseye.

"I hit it!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"Hey! Nice job, Link!" the older cried, holding out his hand for a high-five.

Link gladly slapped his hand, blue eyes glowing with delight.

Nabooru clapped, her own face alight with motherly pride.

"Way to go, little bug!" she called, flashing him a thumbs-up.

He beamed and ran to her, giggling as she swept him up into a bear hug. She ran her fingers through his golden hair, noticing how sharply his pale ivory skin stood out against her deep brown.

"Did you see that, Mama?" he asked, eyes flashing excitedly.

"I did. But I also saw no one in your bed this morning," she told him, raising an eyebrow.

His face fell slightly, and he looked away. "Sorry, Mama," he mumbled.

"No, it's okay," she assured him. "I just wish _somebody_ had let me know what you were doing," she said with a pointed look at the older boy.

He flushed as he approached them.

"Sorry, Nabs, he just really wanted it to be a surprise, and-"

"You're fine Ganon, I'm teasing," she told him, ruffling his crimson hair and causing him to cringe. "How long have you two been practicing?"

"Oh, a week or so. He's a natural, I can't believe he's come so far in such a short time," Ganon said proudly, beaming at Link who nestled into Nabooru's neck, an embarrassed blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Well, he's had a great teacher," Nabooru told Ganon, winking.

"Can I try another shot?" Link asked, pulling away from his mother.

She nodded. "Just a couple."

"Yes! Thanks Mama," he said, planting a kiss on her cheek and scrambling out of her grip.

Nabooru smiled as the two boys ran off, shoving each other as they did.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?"

A familiar voice startled her.

"My King," she greeted, quickly regaining her composure. "I wasn't expecting you at this hour, Gan, I'm sorry-"

He silenced her with a wave of his hand. "No need to worry, Nab. I just thought I'd drop by."

Nabooru sighed a breath of relief, glad this wasn't one of his "stress relief" visits.

They stood quietly for a moment, watching as Ganon coached Link through another shot. Link hung on to every word, looking up at Ganon with pure admiration splashed on his face. One would think he was in the presence of Din herself, not his step-brother.

"Seems like just yesterday Ganon was teaching him how to walk."

Nabooru smiled at the memory. "The years have passed way too quickly for my liking."

King Ganondorf stood beside her, looking at the two boys with an unreadable expression on his face.

Link drew the bow once more, adjusted his aim, and released. Another bullseye. Ganon whooped with excitement, pulling an ecstatic Link into a hug.

"I'm going to need to see him later today."

Nabooru felt her heart drop. The lighthearted mood had vanished completely. "Ganondorf, you know what that does to him."

"And _you_ know it's the only reason I've allowed you to keep him. He's a _Hylian_ , Nabooru. He deserves to burn with the rest of them."

Nabooru felt a flash of indignation, but said nothing.

"I'll collect him around noon."

"He'll be in school!"

"Nabooru," there was warning in his voice.

She sighed, biting her lip. "Yes. Okay."

He nodded, wrapping an arm around her and planting a kiss on top of her head. "Good. I'll see you in a little bit?"

"Of course," she said, leaning back into his embrace. "About that. I think we should meet with Aveil as well."

"Why?"

"Her scouts have been giving increasing reports of Hylian activity around the desert border. I thought we should hear the full account from her," Nabooru explained, eyes on Link again.

Ganondorf Jr. held an arrow above his head, laughing as Link jumped and struggled to reach it.

"You can jump higher than that!" he teased.

"I'm going to punch you!" Link cried breathlessly, though he was laughing and his eyes were filled with nothing but respect and playfulness.

She loved to see him so happy.

"I agree," the King finally replied. "I'll have her summoned."

"Good. Until later?"

"See you then, my Queen."

King Ganondorf gave her shoulder a parting squeeze before disappearing back into her home, leaving her alone to watch the boys.

There was an emptiness in her chest, one that left her feeling heavy and sad.

" _I'm going to need to see him later today."_

All she had ever wanted in life was children. When she'd had her miscarriage seven years ago, it felt like her world had ended.

 _A woman who births the dead must never birth again._

She'd cried for so long. Why had the goddesses cursed her in this way?

Ganondorf wasn't affected as she was. His late first wife had already given him a son, he had no need for any child of hers. All he needed was her companionship and strategic genius.

Then, she'd found him.

In the aftermath of a raid, he'd been nestled in a cushion of ashes. He hadn't been crying, just observing the broken world around him with those big blue eyes.

Something in those wide eyes told her he had a lot left to accomplish in the world.

She'd begged and pleaded to keep him. Ganondorf was not too keen on allowing a Hylian into the Fortress, but he relented upon hearing the desperation in Nabooru's voice.

Thus Link became her son, her baby, her pride and joy.

Ganondorf Jr. was delighted about his new adoptive brother. Nabooru was delighted to be a mother.

And King Ganondorf was delighted with his Gift.

 _Damn the Gift!_

If he didn't have the Gift, they would be happy. They would live a normal life.

She remembered the first time it happened, just last year. He was barely five years old and had woken up crying in the middle of the night, upset by a dream.

She had comforted him and soothed him and whispered calming words before sending him back to bed. The next day, his "dream" became reality.

The poor boy would be cursed with the Gift for the rest of his life.

And Nabooru hated it.

" _I'm going to need to see him later today."_

* * *

He was sitting in school, doing his best to pay attention to the teacher.

Yesterday, he got in trouble for doodling in his notebook instead of listening. She'd yelled at him in front of the whole class, and they'd laughed at him.

It wasn't his fault the lessons were so easy they were boring.

He was already ahead two grades, and the teachers said he "wasn't mature enough" to be pushed forward any further.

He didn't care about what grade he was in. He just wished they'd teach him something he didn't know.

The classroom door opened, and two of the King's personal guards walked in. He recognized them as the twins, Asiyah and Adena.

They weren't very friendly.

Adena whispered something in the teacher's ear. Nodding, she scanned the classroom until her eyes came to rest on him.

Link's heart stopped. He knew what they wanted. What _he_ wanted.

"Link, you're excused."

He shook his head, eyes darting from the twins to his teacher.

"Link."

Swallowing hard, he continued to shake his head.

"Come now or we will make you!" Asiyah barked, gold eyes hard.

His classmates began to whisper around him.

" _What's going on?"_

" _Think he's in trouble?"_

" _Maybe they're finally going to kill him…"_

" _Serves him right, Hylian scum..."_

His face burned red- _and everyone can see it on your pasty white skin-_ and he dragged himself out of his desk and shuffled over to the twins.

"Good boy."

They'd traveled by Wing. He had to ride with Asiyah, clinging onto her waist as they flew through the Fortress. When they arrived at the Palace, he began to shake.

They led him through the doors and down long, twisted hallways. Up the dark, winding staircase he'd come to hate.

When the door came into view, he started to cry.

"Shut up," Asiyah hissed.

This only made him cry harder.

"You're a shame to men everywhere, you white-skinned abomination!"

The door opened. He started to scream.

"I want my mom!"

The King regarded him coolly, though Link could see that lethal fire burning behind the icy curtain in his eyes.

"You better quiet down fast," he said softly, "Or I'll make this a lot more painful than it has to be."

Link bit his lip, whimpering as he was guided into the dimly lit room.

The doors closed behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey there! Sorry for a mildly longish wait, I really just wanted to get the last part right. It's important, and it took me a few drafts to get it where I wanted it.**

 **Thanks to kage-ryu14, Cormag Ravenstaff, GO ZeldaXLink, Cypress22, Guest 1, Machina per Dei, Dragonspirit996, Amanda, DarkKeybladePhantomofTime, Guest 2, Skydragon74193, hiiri, RandomButLoved, and Swordfishsticks for reviewing! Y'all rock.**

 **And without further ado, chapter two.**

 **[above rhyme brought to you be me, your local ff poet]**

 **~Leila**

* * *

 **[warnings]: mild language, torture**

* * *

 _the blood of the lamb is worth two lions._

* * *

 _ **Twelve years later….**_

"Good morning, little bug!" Nabooru cried cheerfully, throwing open the curtains.

Blinding sunlight drenched the room,

He let out some sort of strangled moan and pulled his blanket over his head.

She giggled and sat down on the edge of his nest.

"I take it morning exercises were especially fun today?"

She received a grunt in response.

"Link. You promised to help with the harvest today," Nabooru reminded him, attempting to yank away the blanket.

"Nooo," he groaned, clinging on to his covers.

"Yes. Get up, lazy bones," she instructed, finally succeeding in wrestling away the blanket.

Link responded by wiggling under another blanket. His supply seemed to be endless. "I'm never getting out of this bed."

"Never?"

"Ever."

"What if I told you there's a pan of freshly baked flatbread downstairs?" Nabooru asked, grinning.

He peeked out from his cocoon. Nabooru couldn't help but to giggle at his wild bedhead.

"Freshly baked?"

She nodded. "I pulled it from the oven three minutes ago."

He sprang out of bed, pausing to kiss her on the cheek before sprinting out of his bedroom.

She laughed, rolling her eyes as she walked downstairs to join him. When she arrived in the kitchen, he was already shoving hunks of bread into his mouth, occasionally pausing to adorn the pieces with goat cheese, olives, and oil.

"Slow down or you'll choke," she warned.

He rolled his eyes, ripping off another chunk of flatbread and dunking it in olive oil.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, young man. Sweet tea?" she offered, grabbing two glasses from the cabinets.

They were her favorites: hand-blown stained glass, gifted to her on her wedding day. He told her the orangey-gold color reminded him of her eyes.

"Yeh plea," he managed through his mouthful of food.

"That's disgusting," she said, scrunching up her nose as she took the pitcher of tea from the fridge.

Link had made it himself the other day, as he insisted that she always made hers too weak.

He accepted the glass and drank deeply from it.

"Thanks, Mama," he said once he'd swallowed, flashing her a grin.

She smiled back, ruffling his hair. "Hurry up and eat. You promised Mahasti you'd be there by noon."

Rolling his eyes again, he reached for another piece of bread. "I have plenty of time, calm down." There was a pause. "What time are you leaving?"

Nabooru sighed. Not this again. "We deploy at four."

"You know, if you needed another archer, I-"

"Link," she cut him off. "Don't start this."

He nodded, trying to keep a neutral face as he returned to picking at his bread.

"Yeah, I wasn't trying to start anything, I was just… I thought maybe I would offer," he muttered.

Nabooru smiled sadly. "You know exactly why you can't come along, little one. The King would never allow it."

"I'd be careful," he said, voice taking on a whiny tone. "I'm not helpless, the King said himself that I'm the best archer in the Fortress!"

"Yes, but you're too valuable to risk. Why do you want to come, anyway?" Nabooru asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

There was nothing but explosions and violence and blood. Even if the King didn't forbid him, she would. He was too pure to be tainted by any of that.

Link's cheeks turned red, and he mumbled something unintelligible into his cup of tea.

"Stop mumbling, Link, I can't understand you."

"I want the others to stop laughing at me," he said, louder this time. "It's not like I want to hurt anyone, I just... I just don't want them to…" he trailed off, meeting his mother's eyes with a pained look.

Oh.

Nabooru opened her mouth, as if to say something, but she couldn't find the words. "I… They laugh at you? I thought it stopped after you started homeschooling."

He shook his head, avoiding meeting her eye.

"Who is it?" she demanded, surprise quickly turning to anger. "I'll set them straight, just tell me who!"

He groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"I don't need you to fight my battles, Mama," he said, voice muted behind his fingers. "Just forget about it, sorry I brought it up."

"Oh, no you don't, you can't just bring that up and expect me to drop it! I don't want anyone touching my baby," she said, coming around the counter to wrap him into a hug.

"Ugh, Mom!" he cried, trying unsuccessfully to push her off. "You're smothering me!"

His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but at least he was laughing.

"You need to be smothered sometimes," she murmured into his hair. "I don't like to see my little boy upset, and I would like to know what's going on."

"Mama," he snapped, laughter dissipating instantly. "I'm not little, and I told you, it's nothing, so stop babying me!"

"I'm not babying you, I'm concerned! Why won't you just tell me what's going on, I can help-"

"No, you'd only make it worse," he huffed. "Forget about it, I shouldn't have said anything."

"Link. I know you're upset, you can't hide that. Why can't you just-"

The sound of the front door being thrown open caused both of them to jump.

"Do I smell flatbread?"

Ganon stood in the foyer, wide smile shrinking a bit as he noticed the serious expression on their faces.

"Am I… interrupting anything?"

"No," Link said shortly, pushing away from Nabooru to greet his brother.

She frowned, shooting him her best "we're not done discussing this, young man" look.

Link ignored her. "If you think you can just come in here and take away all my flatbread, you're wrong," he teased, grimacing as Ganon pulled him into a headlock and ruffled his hair.

"And if you think your skinny ass is going to keep me from the flatbread, then you're wrong," the elder brother retaliated.

Nabooru chuckled, pulling out another plate. "Good morning, Ganon," she greeted.

"Morning, Nabs," he said brightly, immediately reaching for a piece of bread and dousing it in oil.

"Are you nervous for this afternoon?" she asked, going to the fridge to pour him a glass of water. He'd never liked tea.

He shrugged, taking the water with a nod of thanks. "Yeah. I've never led a mission before, and I really don't want to let down Father."

Nabooru smiled. "You're going to do great, Ganon. I'll be right beside you the whole time."

She didn't fail to notice how Link's eyes darkened. "Bug, you better get moving. You're due to meet Mahasti in fifteen minutes."

"Oh, shit!" he cried, leaping up from the chair and running to the stairs,

"Language," Nabooru called after him as he tripped his way up the steps.

She waited until his loud footsteps were no longer audible, and as soon as she was sure he was out of earshot, she turned to Ganon.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"It's the same old argument," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "'Why can't I go, you know they could use me,' etcetera, etcetera."

"Why does he want to go so much?" Ganon asked, downing a chunk of bread with a gulp of water. "He loves helping Mahasti and the kids, and I don't think he could hurt a fly."

"I think I'm beginning to understand why," Nabooru told him, glancing at the stairs to make sure Link wasn't returning. "He mentioned that the other kids have been bothering him again."

Ganon raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Again?"

She nodded, remembering his primary school days when he would come home with black eyes and tears. "I don't know how bad, he wouldn't say anything else."

"I wonder if it's the same rotten group of girls," Ganon said bitterly. "If so, I have half a mind to go after them myself.

"Please do, Ganon," Nabooru begged, grabbing her stepson's hand. "He looked so upset, and the poor boy doesn't need all that on top of-"

Thumps could be heard on the stairs, and Link came running into the kitchen. He had on his favorite blue shirt and was struggling to tie his messy mop of hair up into a ponytail.

"Want me to help?" Nabooru offered.

"No," he snapped, finally succeeding in securing a sloppy ponytail.

She frowned. "Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad, Mama," he insisted, though his icy tone suggested otherwise.

He yanked on his boots, grabbed his pack, and pulled his Wing off its docking port. She noticed how jerky his movements were. He really wasn't happy with her.

"Hey, see you later," Ganon said, flashing him one of his prizewinning smiles.

Link offered a small wave and a terse smile in return.

"I love you," Nabooru called as he opened the door.

"Whatever."

With that, he stepped onto his Wing, letting the hoverboard connect with the magnetic grid before rising into the air and shooting off into the Fortress.

"I don't get why he's so upset!" she cried as soon as the door slammed shut. "He was fine, and then he wasn't, and now he's mad…" she trailed off, grip tightening around her glass of tea.

"You know how he is about weakness, he's probably more mad at himself for-"

"But why is he taking it out on me? He never... I don't understand why-"

"Hey," Ganon cut her off. "The kid's eighteen. He's supposed to be bratty and whiny and pick fights with everything that walks. In fact, it's abnormal that he's such a big ball of sunshine. Remember how I was at his age?"

She cracked a small smile. "You were a little shit."

"I was. And Link is entitled to be a shit every so often, too. He deserves it, don't you think?" Ganon asked softly.

"I suppose he does," she muttered. "I just don't like him getting hurt. He doesn't need that, Ganon. Not on top of everything else he goes through."

"I know, Nabs. I know."

She turned to stare at the closed front door.

Ganon was right, and she knew it. She would talk to him when she got home from the raid, and they would figure it out.

She would put an end to the bullying, and everything would be fine.

Right?

* * *

Link urged the Wing on as fast as he could, letting the wind sting his face and whip through his hair. **  
**

He was an idiot. The biggest idiot to ever idiot. Ever.

"Why would you bring that up to her?" he muttered angrily to himself, pressing his hovercraft on faster.

He knew how she would react.

When he was five and a rattlesnake struck at him from the brush behind their house, she came out and killed it herself, crushing its skull beneath her sandal. When he was eight and kids would push him around after Regiment training, she showed up to yell at each and every one of them individually.

 _"Momma's boy,"_ they'd sneered. _"Little whitey still needs his mommy!"_

He knew she wanted to help. He knew she meant nothing but the best for him. And, if their positions were switched, he knew he'd be doing all the same things she was.

He just… Just…

He didn't know.

Truth be told, he wasn't really even mad at his mother.

She and Ganon were all he had in the world, and he loved them more than anything.

He was disgusted with himself for being so weak. _He_ let the words get to him. _He_ allowed them to mean something to him. And, to make things worse, he took all his frustrations out on his mom, the last person he wanted to upset.

He was a walking mess.

 _ **You're a walking miracle.**_

He shook the unwanted voice from his head. He didn't care what They had to say.

They were the root of all his problems.

"Hey, whitey!"

The shout drew him from his thoughts. Turning around, he saw three riders speeding towards him. Even though he couldn't see their faces, he knew exactly who they were.

He could feel their smug grins burning into his back.

 _Of course they have to show up now..._

The green trees of Oasis were just beginning to peek out over the sand dunes. He was so close, he just needed to go a little faster…

"Trying to ignore us?"

One of the riders had pulled up beside him, a smirk on her lips.

He rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Nisaa?"

Nisaa flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and cast a sly look to her friends. "Well, we were just preparing for the raid, when we saw something abnormally white glowing against the sand dunes. We came to check it out, but turns out it was just you."

The other two girls, Sabreen and Kirvi, snickered.

"That one never gets old, does it?" Link asked, keeping his eyes on the green ahead.

"No, it really doesn't. So where you headed? Getting ready for the raid- oh wait, I forgot, they don't need you."

Link grit his teeth.

 _They're just trying to get a rouse out of you. Ignore them for a couple more minutes._

"Why would they? They already have the best archers in the Fortress," Kirvi sneered.

Link snorted. "I assume you're talking about yourselves? Please. You all can barely tell an arrow from your ass."

"But which of us is on farm duty?" Nisaa pointed out.

"You know it's for my protection-"

Sabreen dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "Excuses, excuses. Everyone knows that you're just too weak for the battlefield."

His shaking hands curled into fists.

"Oh, are we upsetting you?" Nisaa asked. "Poor whitey. The truth hurts."

"Don't you have something better to do?" Link muttered, turning away from her, blinking the tears out of his eyes.

He hated how easily he cried.

"Not for another hour," Sabreen informed him.

They were in Oasis now, and the desert sands were instantly replaced with lush greenery. A breeze rustled the corn stalks, and laughter could be heard from somewhere in the district.

Such a contrast with the clanging of steel and grunts of sparring he heard at home.

He began his descent, hoping Nisaa and her cronies would give up and fly away, but of course, they followed him down.

 _Just leave me alone-_

 _ **-explosions. Heat. Bombs. Death, dying, dead. This is not a raid, tHIS IS WAR-**_

He gasped, shaking the scene from his head. Not this. Not now.

"Coming to help me pick some squash?" he asked shakily, jumping off of his Wing as they reached the ground.

Their voices still rang in his ears, the pictures replaying in his mind.

The trio rolled their eyes in perfect, practiced unity.

"Funny. Just saying goodbye to you, whitey. It's only polite," Nisaa sneered.

"He wouldn't know anything about manners, Hylians are savages like that," Kirvi informed them, face twisting up in disgust as she said 'Hylians.'

"Oh shut up," Link snapped, picking up his Wing.

"See? Told you."

 _ **-the bullet flies unseen through the fray, burying itself-**_

He cringed, shaking his head rapidly in a vain attempt to clear his brain.

"Problem, pointy?" Sabreen asked.

"He's having one of his crazy spells!" Kirvi squealed.

"You're a crazy spell!" he shot back, turning on his heel and marching towards the fields.

"Clever," Nisaa said, shooting him a superior glance before stepping back onto her Wing and rising into the air. Nisaa and Sabreen quickly followed suit. "Have fun being domestic."

"Try and get shot!" he called back, not turning to watch as they zoomed away.

With a loud, over-dramatic grunt, he began pushing his way through the cornfield. He didn't mean it. He didn't want anyone to get shot, not even Nisaa. But sometimes he wished someone would hit her across the face with a brick. Repeatedly.

 _ **-someone is getting shot, someone is getting shot, the bullet flies unseen through the fray, burying itself-**_

"Stop it," he whispered, shaking his head wildly, as if trying to get water out of his ears. "Stop it!"

"Link?" a raspy voice called. "Link, is that you?

An old, shriveled Gerudo woman poked her head through the cornstalks, blinking in the bright sunlight.

"Morning, Mahasti," he greeted, blinking away the last traces of the vision.

The voices were reduced to whispers, slithering around his head like a tangle of cobras, hissing once more before retreating into oblivion.

"A little late, aren't we?"

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "Sorry."

 _Sorry I'm being bullied so I yelled at my mom and then I got bullied and also I'm psychic._

"I don't want your apologies," she said, turning on her heel and marching back into the jungle of corn. "I only keep you around for hard labor."

"Really? I thought you kept me for my sense of humor and can-do attitude," he quipped, trailing behind her.

"Well, it certainly isn't for your punctuality. Or your modesty."

The pair emerged from the corn field, finding themselves on a soft grass path that branched into many other paths, each leading to a different crop. However, all the paths were connected, leading to the life and blood of Oasis: the Timeshift Stone.

The Stone was what kept Fortress alive. The large, indigo crystal was located in the center of Oasis, guarded by at least three Elite soldiers at all times.

It had the amazing ability to transcend time, transforming the desert landscape into the fertile grassland it had been thousands of years ago. Without the Stone, Fortress would have no possible way to get any food or water. The whole country would simply shrivel up and wither away.

Hylians had been trying for years to figure out how the society could thrive in the middle of the desert, but to no avail. It was, perhaps, the Gerudo's best kept secret.

 _ **Besides you.**_

"Shut up," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Mahasti demanded, turning back to glare at him.

"No, not you, I- nevermind. Sorry."

"Hmph. I should have you weed the whole pumpkin patch," she said, facing forwards again.

"You don't mean it."

"I might."

"You don't. You're soft," he teased, nudging her with his elbow.

A smile played on her lips. "Say that again and I'll have you do the corn field too."

"Now you're just being unreasonable."

She chuckled, a low raspy sound that reminded Link of a crackling fire.

They were coming up on the tomato patch now, where several young girls were engaged in a game of hopscotch, jumping in squares they'd etched in the dirt.

The oldest was thirteen, the youngest was five, and they were what one could call "problem children." Insubordinate, violent, criminal, all from the districts of Oasis and Industria. Children from the third district- his home- Capital, knew better than to act up.

Mahasti offered a sort of rehabilitation camp in which the children would help harvest the nation's crops (keeping them away from the general public) while abiding by her strict disciplinary rules. They were released from her program when she redeemed them "reformed."

Link was technically there to help her supervise, but sometimes he couldn't help but to wonder if he was a problem child himself.

"Hey!" Mahasti barked as they approached the gaggle of girls, "I don't pay you to play silly games!"

"You don't even pay us," Anakiyah, a nine year-old thief from Industria shot back, not even bothering to look away from the game.

"Well it's a good thing I don't, because you're all worthless," Mahasti grumbled.

Link stifled a laugh.

Unfortunately, Mahasti heard him and turned her glare to him. "Why are you laughing, boy? You were ten minutes late when a group of prepubescent delinquents managed to be here on time!"

He was about to mumble some half-assed excuse, but at the sound of Mahasti yelling at someone other than them, the girls looked away from their game and saw him.

"Link!" they cried, rushing over to greet him.

"Oh gods-"

They collided with him at full speed, sending him toppling to the ground. He grunted, fighting to get out from beneath the squirming pile of girls, receiving elbows to the face, knees to the stomach, and a whole lot of red hair in his mouth.

Mahasti cackled above him, and he shot her a scowl.

"I think you like to see me suffer," he grunted.

"Perhaps," was all she said.

"Link!" the youngest, Jalilah, cried, "I lost a tooth, see!"

"Link! Link! Look at this rock I found!"

"Link! You promised to let us play with your hair today, remember?"

Link just lie on his back and emitted a loud groan. "I would love to talk to all of you, but you're crushing my windpipe."

"Get off now, girls," Mahasti prompted, "There is a lot of work to do, and Link does in fact need to breathe."

"I thought Hylians had special breathing powers or something," Faaria, Jalilah's older sister, muttered.

"No, dummy, they have super hearing!" a newer girl whose name he couldn't quite remember (Hayal? Hilal?) corrected. "Look at his ears!"

Link grinned. "We also have laser eyes, and if you don't get off me in two seconds I'll vaporize every single one of you."

"No way."

"Yes way."

"Mahasti, does he for real have laser eyes?" Jalilah asked.

The old woman shrugged. "How should I know? But, knowing him, he probably does."

The girls shrieked and scrambled to their feet, screaming about lasers and super powers as they grabbed their buckets and began to work.

Link chuckled to himself, taking the moment to close his eyes and drink in the warmth of the sun.

He wondered what his mom was doing. Had she left for the Palace yet? Was she going over last minute battle plans? Running over a final few drills? Was Ganon still nervous? Was the King preparing to call on him, waiting in the room at the top of those stairs with a dagger and a smile-

"Okay, lazy, get up," Mahasti said, kicking his side gently.

He groaned. "It's always 'work, work, work' with you."

"I can't afford _not_ to be 'work work work.' With a team of ten delinquents and a sack of potatoes, it's a wonder anything gets done around here!" she exclaimed.

"Just to be clear, am I the sack of potatoes, or-"

"Din help me boy, I wasn't given enough patience for this."

The edge in her tone was enough to spur him into action. "Yeah, yeah, okay I'm going. No need to be pushy."

She rolled her eyes, thrusting a bucket at him. "You're much more trouble than you're worth, potato."

He grinned and went to join the children, kneeling down in a row of neat tomato plants.

"Did Momma M just call you a potato?" Faaria asked.

"You're too pink to be a potato," Jalilah assured him.

"Thanks, Li. I'm glad you don't think I look like a potato."

"You're more of a string bean," Anakiyah giggled.

He feigned offense. "How dare you! I am the pumpkin of the vegetables: strong and delicious."

"Are you saying you're fat like a pumpkin?" one of the girls teased, poking him in the stomach.

"It's not polite to comment on a pumpkin's weight," he told her with a grin.

"Less talking, more working!" Mahasti called.

The girls ignored her, of course, but Link lapsed into silence and fell into the monotonous routine of picking tomatoes.

Occasionally, the girls would ask him a question- _Do you think a pumpkin could grow big enough to live in? What does a Moldorm taste like? Why do white people get sunburnt?_ \- but for the most part, he was alone with his thoughts.

The sun was directly overhead and beating down with ferocious intensity, so he estimated it to be around one in the afternoon.

His mom was definitely at the Palace now, no doubt consoling Ganon before going to address the members of the raid team.

It was a small operation today; a scout had spotted a relatively large Hylian caravan moving in the direction of their fort in the Desert Colossus. Their mission was to intercept it before it reached the Hylian base and take all useful supplies.

Though no one had said it aloud, the caravan was likely filled with weapons to arm the base in preparation for- for what?

Tensions had been growing between the neighboring countries for almost a decade. The peace treaty was a half-assed attempt at civility that was ignored by both sides. Hylian troops inched further into Gerudo borders, terrorizing outskirt towns. Gerudo raiders struck Hylian cities, growing more violent with each operation. It was only a matter of time before- before what?

War.

"Hey, Link, I've got a joke," Jalilah said.

"Let's hear it," he responded distantly.

"How do you confuse a Hylian?"

He sighed. "How?"

"Put them in a round room and tell them to sit in a corner," she giggled.

"That was my joke!" Faaria cut in. "She steals my jokes all the time!"

"I've got one," Link said, shuffling over to the next tomato plant. "A Terminian, a Gerudo, and a Hylian are all stuck on an island that's 50 miles from the mainland. The Terminian decides to swim back, so they get in and swim 10 miles, get tired and drown. The Gerudo then swims 20 miles, gets tired, and drowns. The Hylian swims 25 miles, but then gets tired and decides to swim back to the island."

Faaria giggled, but Jalilah looked upset. "I don't get it," the younger whined.

"It's because 25 plus 25 is 50, stupid," Hilal (Hayal?), who must have overheard the joke, informed her.

"You're stupid," Jalilah snapped.

"Okay you two calm down. It was just a dumb joke," Link said, returning to his picking.

"It's not my fault she's too stupid to-"

"Hey," Link interrupted. "Let it go. It doesn't even matter."

The two glared at each other for a moment longer before returning to their task. Faaria sighed. "Don't you hate how immature children can be?" she asked.

He looked down at her. "I hate to break this to you, but you are in fact a children."

"I'm twelve!"

"Exactly!"

"Twelve is not a child," she insisted. "I'm a tween."

"Excuse me?"

"Y'know, not a kid, not a teenager. A tween."

"I think you made that up," he said, grinning as he grabbed a particularly fat tomato.

"Did not! Just ask anyone!" Faaria argued.

"Mahasti!" he yelled. "What do you call a twelve year old?"

"A child," was the response.

Link grinned smugly at Faaria while she put on a pouty face. "Mahasti is old," she grumbled. "She wouldn't know."

Faaria soon began talking with the other girls again, and he was left picking tomatoes in silence.

He absently wondered what time it was. The sun was still pretty high in the sky, so he guessed it was probably late afternoon.

 _Maybe it's already four. Maybe they left already. Maybe he won't need me today._

But off in the distance, two dots were visible, growing in size with every passing second. His stomach dropped, and it took all of his willpower not to throw up all over the plants.

 _It's okay, they could just be passing guards on patrol, just because they're coming this way super fast doesn't mean they're coming for you it's okay breathe Link brEATHE-_

"You okay?" Anakiyah asked. "You look a little white. Well, whit _er_ **.** "

"Yeah, just got dizzy for a sec. It's hot out today," he said, forcing a smile for her benefit.

She nodded her agreement. "When I get home, my mom told me I can have ice cream. You can come too, if you want."

He smiled. "I don't know if you'd want me over. I would eat all the ice cream and leave none for you."

The two dots had morphed into silhouettes of guards on Wings.

"What if I gave you squash flavored ice cream?" Anakiyah giggled.

"Then I would go home and get better ice cream!"

His heart was beating too fast and his hands were getting sweaty. The guards began making their descent.

"Are those soldiers?" Jalilah asked, squinting.

"What do they want? Faaria asked worriedly.

"Done anything illegal lately?" Link asked. His mouth was completely dry and he could feel his heart in his throat.

"I mean, not _lately_ , and nothing like, _super_ illegal…"

"They aren't here for you, don't worry about it," Link said.

The riders had landed, stepped off their hoverboards, and were now conversing with Mahasti. They wore standard military desert camoflague, but a crimson insignia on their shoulders signified that they were Elites.

"Are they gonna fight Momma M?" Jalilah whispered nervously.

"Nah. And if they did, Mahasti would win. She's a tough old bat," Link assured her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mahasti point at him.

 _Please, ground, just open up and swallow me. Please, please, please._

"Link?" she called.

He pretended not to hear her. Faaria tugged on his sleeve, worry painted on her face.

"Do they want **you**?"

"Link, can you come over here?"

"I'm not in the mood for this today," one of the Elites warned.

He would know that hostile growl anywhere. It was Adena, meaning that the second Elite was likely her twin Asiyah.

He stood up, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Link, are you gonna be okay?" Anakiyah asked.

"Yeah," he said, smiling weakly. "I just have to go talk with my dad."

* * *

They flew in silence back to Capital, Adena in front of him and Asiyah behind.

He kept a straight face, but inside his heart was pounding and he was screaming. If one were to look closely, they would see how his hands trembled (ever-so slightly) and the sweat on his brow (just barely there).

No matter how many times he had to do this, it never got less terrifying. He supposed that made him a coward.

 _I'm weak._

 ** _It's cruel. Your Gift is not something to be forced._**

He ignored Them. They were unusually talkative today, and that made him nervous.

The three of them landed in the central Palace courtyard, docking their Wings before heading inside.

He was led through several hallways, Adena in front and Asiyah behind.

They passed several guards, who looked at him with mixed looks of contempt and disgust. He looked at the ground, counting the colored tiles.

"Filth," he heard one hiss as he passed.

He pretended not to hear her, just like he did every other time.

They took a sharp turn down a secluded hallway and reached the staircase. He felt like throwing up.

"Quiet," Adena commanded.

"I didn't even say anything!"

"You breathe too loud."

He rolled his eyes and forced himself to walk up the stairs. Left, right. Left right. Adena in front, Asiyah behind.

There was a total of 79 steps. He'd counted them when he was younger, thinking they took too long to climb. He was so naive then.

The door was in view now, and he began to wish that he would have a sudden heart attack and die.

"Come on," Adena urged, shoving him ahead of her. "He's waiting for you."

He knocked, slowly, deliberately.

 _Maybe he's not here. Maybe **he** had a sudden heart attack and died. Maybe-_

"Come in."

He turned the handle, entering the room and leaving Asiyah and Adena behind.

"Close the door."

He obeyed, cutting the two of them off from the rest of the world.

It was a dim room, only illuminated by seven strategically placed candles throughout the room. The King stood straight-faced next to a rune circle carved into the center of the floor, watching Link with calculating eyes.

A dagger glinted in his hand, flickering with the candlelight.

"Hurry now, we don't have much time."

Link nodded, dutifully removing his shirt and kneeling in the center of the circle.

The stone was cold beneath his knees, and the candles smothered the room with a scent like incense, but it was familiar. It was routine.

He remembered how it was before the King discovered the Summoning ritual. At first, he tried bargaining and bartering and bribing. This quickly turned to anger and violence and punching and kicking while poor little Link (only six years old) cried and screamed-

 _"I can't do it! I don't know how! I don't know!"_

 _"YOU'RE LYING TO ME. I NEED TO SEE. I NEED TO KNOW. I NEED-"_

The King began to chant under his breath, the same words Link had heard hundreds of times.

 _Eight-hundred and two, to be exact._

He drove the knife into his back before Link had a chance to react.

Link hissed in pain as the King carved the essential rune into his back, reopening the old wound that never seemed to heal.

He was never gentle with his cuts. One would think he was skinning an animal instead of performing an ancient ritual to summon a goddess.

 _Or in this case, three._

Blood ran in warm rivers down his back, dripping slowly onto the circle. The runes shimmered at the contact with the crimson rain, shining brighter with every drop.

Finally, the King yanked the blade from his back, reciting the final words with practiced dramatic flair.

 _"Procedent et revelare!"_

The world began to fade around him, the Palace walls melting into a never-ending darkness. He was "in-between," as he liked to call it. He used to be afraid of the black void, but over time he had grown to appreciate the silence of the tertiary realm. There wasn't the grandeur of the heavens, or the hectic commotion of the earth. Just in-between.

Three hazy silhouettes appeared in the distance (always at a distance, never up close), identical except for their color.

The red one always stood at the left, the green in the middle, and the blue on the right.

 ** _You're back._**

They spoke in unison, Their voices blending into one.

"Oh Mighty Three, I call upon you to shed your light on-"

 _ **Wait.**_

He stopped immediately, clamping his mouth shut.

 ** _This is the fifth time he's called upon your Gift this month._**

"Is it? I lost track," he mumbled.

 _ **Your blessing was not made to be abused in this manner. At this rate, you'll die at the age of twenty-five.**_

He shrugged, looking at his feet. "I have to protect my people."

 _ **Protect a people who mock and ridicule you? It's killing you. We know you can feel it.**_

"What does it matter? I'm nothing but a human crystal ball to them anyway."

 _ **It matters to us. We have plans for you, Link. We didn't intend for you to burn out so quickly.**_

He felt a flash of indignation. "Then why don't you pull some heavenly strings and make him stop?"

 _ **You know it doesn't work like that.**_

"Can I just get it over with? Please?"

There was a pause.

 _ **As you wish.**_

He sighed, closing his eyes. "Oh Mighty Three, I call upon you to shed your light on the future. Reveal to me your secrets. Enlighten me with your plans."

 _ **Another One, we presume.**_

He nodded. "Just take it."

 _ **That makes-**_

"Eight-hundred and two. I know."

 _ **If you're sure.**_

With that, the three figures rushed forward, colliding with him at top speed. Pain erupted through his body- _his skin was on FIRE and there was LAVA in his veins_ \- and he screamed into the abyss. His insides were _melting_ , his brain _exploding_ , every molecule screaming in protest as they were _torn apart_ and _reassembled_ -

The pain subsided. He (They?) opened his eyes, he was back in the Palace. He (They?) stood up, slowly, and turned to face the King.

His eyes burned a menacing gold. Any trace of the soft sky blue had vanished completely.

"Hello," the King greeted.

 **"King Ganondorf."**

The words came from his mouth, but it was not his voice. It was a trio of voices, clashing dissonantly.

 **"Congratulations. You're getting the war you've always wanted."**

The King frowned. "A war? Our scouts just reported a supplies caravan-"

 **"An ambush. Each car in the caravan is full of armed men. The appearance of a caravan was a tactic to draw out your troops."**

Ganondorf made a growling sound. "Doesn't that damn peace treaty mean anything to those brutes?"

 **"It means the same to them as it does to you."**

"Fair enough." A pause. "What should I do about them?"

 **"We're here to tell you the future, not offer you advice. We'll leave that up to your strategic expertise."**

He sighed. "We know they're heading to their base in the Colossus, so that means they're either aiming to attack the outer villages or using the caravan as a tactic to draw us out…"

"Anything else, King Ganondorf?" They interrupted. They sounded bored.

"No, you're dismissed. Thank you."

They (Link?) gave a curt nod, and with that, the golden glow faded from his eyes. Link gave a small gasp- _he was back_ \- before collapsing in an exhausted heap on the floor.

"An ambush…" the King muttered, paying no attention to his fallen stepson, "I should have known, those damn white savages… Asiyah! Adena! Assemble Legion 104 and get me a weapons technician!"

Link watched helplessly as he raced from the room, the twins following close behind him.

He was alone.

Visions and voices were still jumbled in his head, his limbs felt like jelly, and the cuts in his back throbbed painfully. He was too drained to move, so he lie there, immobilized in a pool of his own blood.

 _ **Was it worth the month?**_ They whispered.

Medics robed in crimson appeared at the door, (or at least he _thought_ they were medics- his vision was beginning to blur) walking towards him briskly.

 ** _Is that man worth the sixty-six years you've given away?_**

That was the last thing he heard clearly. Before he lost consciousness, he thought he could feel tears welling up in his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for your patience guys! My family took a two week trip to Nevada/Arizona/Colorado as a sort of last hurrah before I leave for college this month *cries*. I didn't bring my laptop (which was stupid), so I couldn't work on this for quite some time! I did do some of this on the notes app on my phone, so I tried? Anyway, thanks for putting up with me. As you probably know by know, I'm the literal worst at consistent updating aka I'm lazy af and I'm so sorry!**

 **I'm sending virtual hugs and chocolate chip cookies to Guest 1, BelieveInYourDreams4Life, Candyqueen, DrDonut, AMaeJay, Aryll Jaynn, Generala, SausageLink43, Imagination that, PianoPlayer1200, Skydragon74193, SunnyStormCloud, Machina per Dei, and RandomButLoved for reviewing! Your input means a lot, thanks all!**

 **~Leila**

* * *

 **[warnings]: mild language**

* * *

 _Can I ask... a question? The right thing...what is it? I wonder...if you do the right thing...does it really make...everybody...happy?_

* * *

 ** _Soon Soon (soon) SOON! 6:08, 6:08 (6:08 6:08 6:08) It all happens at 6:08 (6:08)!_**

 ** _The Hylians lost their element of surprise (thanks to you) and a simple raid has turned into an all-out battle (a war a war a war)._**

 ** _Explosions, bombs, heat, dying, death. Neither sides were (explosions and bombs and-) prepared for what they were getting themselves into (a war a war dying and death)._**

 ** _King Ganondorf decided to lead_** ** _the raid, (he never leads raids why this one?) which is exactly what the Hylians were hoping for (he came out to play because it's not a raid it'S WAR)._**

 ** _A bullet flies unseen through the fray (at 6:08 at exactly 6:08) flying straight and true, burying itself in the chest of the King (at 6:08)._**

 ** _Time seemed to freeze as the mighty man fell from his hovercraft and into the sands below, staining them red, red, red. His wife (your mother) screamed (out of anguish) and the sniper screamed (out of_** ** _exhilaration). The sniper was a young woman (very young, like you) with very red hair and turquoise tattoos snaking up her arms._**

 ** _It was only a matter of seconds before every Gerudo soldier was disarmed and apprehended (Ganon, your mom). In just those few seconds, your entire world fell apart (at 6:08 6:08 everything changes at 6:08war war wAR)._**

 ** _(6:08)_**

 ** _IT'S AT 6:08 WAKE UP!_**

Link woke with a start.

His head ached, his heart pounded, and he felt sticky and uncomfortable beneath the blankets.

 _Blankets?_

He bolted upright, blinking in the bright light as he tried to identify his surroundings. It only took him a second to see that he was in his own bedroom, tucked in neatly beneath his mountain of blankets.

The wounds on his back had been dressed and bandaged, and someone had folded up his blue shirt and placed it on his bedside table.

He let out a breath and slowly laid back down, trying his best to slow his racing heartbeat.

 _Why do I feel so uneasy?_

Link sat back up again, pushing off the confining blankets and pulling his shirt on. He wondered if Their session with the King hadn't gone well. That was probably it, he conceded. It wasn't the first time the King had picked a fight with Them, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

He reached for the glass of water someone had left out for him (probably his mother) and took a casual glance at the clock.

4:42.

He frowned. Something nagged at him from the back of his mind, something important-

 _ **6:08 DON'T FORGET 6:08 6:08 6:08**_

He gasped, eyes widening. Everything came crashing back _**(war and heat and bombs and death and dying and turquoise tattoos 6:08**_ ** _turquoise)_** and the glass of water was sent tumbling to the ground. He jumped out of bed, only to collapse in a heap on the floor among the wet glass shards.

A shard had split open his back again, and blood began to drip onto the floor.

"Dammit," he hissed, propping himself up against the wall.

 _Mom would be so mad._

His shaking legs felt like jelly, and every muscle in his body screamed in protest with every move he made. Hosting Them always left him in a weakened state, usually for days at a time.

 _(But that doesn't stop him from using you, does it? He would utilize you daily- HOURLY- if it wasn't for your mother!)_

 ** _someone's getting shot,_** ** _someone's getting shot, 6:08 the bullet flies unseen at 6:08 better hurry better hurry_**

Groaning, Link pulled himself into a standing position and began making his way to the stairs, using the wall for support. He needed to hurry, it was a long ride to... Where were they? His brain was clouded with images of turquoise snakes and blood.

 _Where,_ _where, where..._

 ** _tick tock, tick tock, tick-_**

He collapsed, crashing face first into his mother's favorite rug.

"Dammit!" he hissed, crawling to the head of the stairs and grabbing the railing to pull himself up. His journey down the stairs was slow, strenuous, and full of words his mother hated.

 _Why did he need to see Them? Where are they going? What are they doing? I don't remember, don't remember,_ _don't know..._

 _ **ticktockticktockticktocktocktickticktick-**_

"The Colossus!" he blurted out loud as he reached the ground floor. "The Hylian base at the Colossus!"

He made his (slow) way over to the closet by the Wing docking port and flung open the doors. Inside was his pride and joy: his bow. It was already strung, much to his relief (he knew for a fact he didn't have the strength to do it himself), and his quiver was chock full with a variety of arrows.

 _Flaming, explosive, poison, electric... so many ways to kill._

He slung both over his shoulder, grunting at the sudden weight.

 _ **hurry hurry 6:08 hurry 6:08**_

"Gods help me," he huffed, bracing himself to pull his Wing from its charging dock. The hovercraft was made of a lighter metal to allow flight, but it certainly didn't feel light to him right now.

After a moment of struggle, he finally managed to wrestle the Wing from the charger, only to drop it on his foot out of sheer exhaustion.

"Son of a witch!"

His arms trembled from the exertion, he was gasping for oxygen, and now his toe hurt.

"I-" _gasp_ , "can't-" _gasp_ , "do it!"

 _ **PEOPLE. WILL. DIE.**_

"I know!" he roared. "I know."

 ** _Then GO!_**

"I'm trying!"

Link's voice was practically a whimper (baby) and he hated it. He hated how his mom and brother were in danger. He hated how the fate of his entire race rested on his shoulders, when he was (literally) physically incapable of carrying it.

 _ **So what are you going to do about it?**_

"Screw you," he muttered, bending down to push his Wing to the door.

 _Hurry hurry hurry-_

 ** _6:08 6:08 6:08 6:08 huRRY_**

"Stop yelling at me!"

 ** _6:08._**

He let out a frustrated groan, partly out of exhaustion, partially out of frustration. This wasn't the first time a premonition had warned him of the death of someone important (he'd saved Mahasti from a rattlesnake, Ganon from a land mine, etc. etc.) but he was never any less scared and never any more used to his weakened state.

He finally succeeded in scooting the Wing to the door, lungs burning and muscles screaming. Stepping onto the board, he allowed a second for the magnets in his shoes to connect with the metal of the hovercraft.

 _ **someone's getting shot...**_

As soon as he was secure, the Wing whirred to life, connecting with the underground grid and rising into the air.

He didn't pause for even a second.

Without second thought, Link shot off towards the Colossus. He didn't even bother to close the front door.

 ** _hurry little lamb 6:08 6:08 little lamb!_**

* * *

 **(Termina)**

"Okay Tet, I have your medium mocha with extra whipped cream, and a breakfast sandwich with extra, _extra_ meat!"

"Tetra" stepped forward to accept her order, frowning at the red headed barista. "Funny," she said, inspecting the sandwich for any deli cuts just in case. Luckily, there were none. "I feel like I should check my drink for spit now."

"That was one time, let it go," the barista told her with an impish grin.

She cracked a smile and leaned on the counter. "You're the worst."

"I know."

They were silent for a minute as she took a bite of her breakfast. Café activity continued as normal: a group of teenaged girls ordered overly sugary drinks, a group of teenaged boys ordered slightly sugary- _er_ drinks, a man with a scruffy beard and a beret was working on a screenplay, two women argued about which would be "mom" and which would be "mommy" when their child was born.

It was all so _normal._

"I'm gonna miss you Ralph," she sighed, taking a sip of her drink to wash down the sandwich. "It's going to be a long summer break without you and your crazy antics."

" _My_ crazy antics? You don't necessarily have sane antics," Ralph pointed out defensively.

"Oh really? Like what?" "Tetra" challenged, arching an eyebrow and taking another bite.

"Let's go on a hike!" Ralph imitated in a high, squeaky voice. "Let's hike Ikana Canyon even though it borders the nation my country is at war with and I'm my country's prin-"

"Shh!" she cut him off, though she was laughing through her sandwich. "First off, I do _not_ sound like that! And second, yes it might have been a _little_ dumb, but the views were gorgeous!"

"You're going to die young," Ralph informed her.

Her pocket buzzed.

"My midlife crisis was at eleven and it's only gone downhill since," she joked, fishing her phone out of the depths of her sweatshirt.

 **From Impa: Z, hurry up. Getting impatient.**

"Tetra" groaned. "My cab is here," she told Ralph.

He put on his best pouty face. "I can hide you behind the counter," he offered.

She giggled and shook her head, bun flopping back and forth as she did so. "I gotta go, man."

They embraced over the counter, squeezing as tight as they could.

"My hug is tighter," Ralph grunted.

"In your dreams, weakling," "Tetra" shot back.

Another buzz.

 **From Impa: Come. Out. Now. Saria is waiting.**

"Okay, now I really have to go," she sighed.

"Alright. I'll miss you, T-Dog. Don't do drugs, eat your vegetables, and maybe find yourself a nice wife or husband, eh?" he teased.

"Why not both?" she suggested.

"Even better. Polygamy for the win! And text me, if you're not to busy lazing around on Outset. I know you islanders are bums, but a call every once and a while would be nice," he teased.

"Of course. Say bye to Nayru for me, don't get into too much trouble, and _please_ use soap when you shower."

Ralph grinned. "Will do, coach."

She pulled him into one last quick hug, tears welling up in her eyes. "See you when school starts," she choked out.

"Don't you dare get emotional on me, because you know if you start crying, I'll start crying and it'd be embarrassing for both of us."

She pulled away, laughing and wiping her eyes.

"Now get out of here, you have important stuff to do," Ralph said, straining a smile.

"Tetra" nodded, turning to exit the coffee shop. "I know. I'll see you soon, R-Money."

He gave her a parting salute, which she returned in kind before pushing open the doors and exiting the Lost Woods Café.

As soon as she stepped outside, her life flipped around.

There wasn't a cab waiting for her, it was a limo. She wasn't going home to Outset, she was going home to Hyrule. Her name wasn't Tetra, it was Zelda. And she wasn't just a student at the Univeristy of Termina, she was a Princess of Hyrule.

 _( **And** heir to the throne.)_

Two figures immediately materialized at her side, clad in suits and black sunglasses (she could see the outline of guns in their pockets and the wire of an earpiece snaking down their necks). A perky woman in green joined her, tapping on her cell phone and reciting Zelda's lengthy to do list ( _lose the baggy clothes, file your nails, sit up straight, smile!_ ). A man with a curly mustache bowed and opened the limo for her, helping her into the car (as if she were a porcelain figurine that would shatter if dropped).

As the limo door shut and the woman kept talking, she wanted nothing more than to run back into the café and hide behind the counter like Ralph had suggested.

"Your Highness? Are you listening to me?"

Zelda looked away from the window to see her personal assistant glaring over the rims of her green glasses.

"Sorry Saria," Zelda sighed, positioning herself to face the other woman (chin up, back straight, neck long).

"I know you've been away at college for nine months sweetie, but don't forget it's back to real life now," Saria told her, voice dripping with condescendence.

"'Real life,'" Zelda scoffed. "There's nothing real about thousand rupees dresses, ten pounds of makeup and extensive photoshop."

Saria pressed her lips together tightly, struggling to maintain her cheery disposition.

"It might not be real, but it's your life. You had your time to dress like a slob and run around with commoners, but now it's back to your responsibilities as Hyrule's heir. Just remember that your parents could have sent you to Windfall Academy," her assistant reminded her, grinning smugly.

"I know," she grumbled, looking out the window once more, watching the city she loved pass her by.

It'd been one hell of a fight to convince her parents to let her go to a public university versus a private school exclusively for royalty.

"Now, I'll leave you time to make yourself look presentable, and then we'll go over your schedule for your return," Saria said, managing to make a statement sound like a command.

"Okay, thank you," Zelda responded distantly.

Saria gave a curt nod before turning back to her phone.

 _Thank the gods._

Zelda pressed a button on her control panel, and a divider rose from the floor, obscuring her from Saria and creating a private changing room.

She let out a loud grunt of frustration and grabbed her phone to send a text.

 **To Ralph: sos _please_ come save me**

 **From Ralph: no prob, we'll just switch places. give me a blond wig and fake boobs and we're like identical**

She smiled sadly at the screen before clicking off her phone and turning to face the mirror on the back of the divider.

There were a lot of conditions that came with her attending public college.

A new name and identity. No one was to ever know that she was Zelda of Hyrule, and she was never to tell anyone (except for Ralph, he was her best friend and needed to know).

She pulled out the ponytail securing her bun and let her hair fall down in loose waves.

Her hair was to be up at all times. As the princess, she rarely ever wore her hair up and would thus be more recognizable with it down.

An outfit had been laid out for her (everything designer, of course) as well as her cosmetics bag.

She wasn't allowed to wear makeup as Tetra. She was easily identified with her signature rosy cheeks and pink lipstick.

Zelda took a long drink from her mocha, wanting to put off her makeover as long as possible. Putting on fancy clothes and doing her makeup would be acknowledging that her freedom had ended.

Another condition: she had to return home for every break (though for the last two years, she'd told them spring break ended four days before it actually did).

It got harder and harder to return to castle life after every passing "vacation," and the thought of spending three months under constant surveillance and thousands of rules made her stomach turn. Being away from home have her the freedom to act improper and be who she wanted, not someone the public wanted to see.

She shot another text to Ralph.

 **To Ralph: I'm thinking of running away, thoughts?**

 **From Ralph: the jury met, and the verdict is yes. My mom says you can stay with her**

 **To Ralph: I love carol**

 **From Ralph: she likes you better than my girlfriend :(**

 **To Ralph: it's because I'm prettier**

 **From Ralph: I'm telling Nayru you said that**

Someone knocked on the divider, startling her.

"How's it going Princess?" Saria asked.

"Oh, uh, great," she replied, looking down at her paint-splattered university sweatshirt. "Almost ready!"

"Good. We have a lot to discuss, so finish quickly."

"You got it!" she called back, shimmying out of her joggers and kicking off her ratty tennis shoes.

She took a quick second to look over what her stylist had picked out for her: a pleated navy skirt (by LonLon), a white button up shirt (by Darmani), and her favorite Zora necklace (from the Ruto Sapphire collection).

She had to know which piece of clothing was designed by who for when reporters asked, because they always asked.

"I hate buttons!" she grumbled to herself, fumbling to fasten her shirt. "They aren't worth it!"

Seconds later, she was dressed entirely in designer (overpriced) clothing, sweatshirt and sweatpants left rumpled up on the floor.

"Zelda!"

"Almost done!" she yelled, dusting a rose powder on the apples of her cheeks. "Just have to do mascara!"

 _And lipstick, and eyebrows, and bronzer_ , she added mentally.

Mascara was to always look natural and fluttery. Eyebrows could never look too dark. Bronzer was just meant to accentuate. And finally, her lipstick was always to be the same color (Fairy Fountain by D.I.N).

The goal was for her to look effortlessly natural and better than everyone else.

"Okay!" she cried, running her hands through her hair. "I'm ready."

Saria lowered the barrier and smiled as she saw her. " _There's_ the beautiful Princess we all know and love," she crooned.

 _I'm more than beautiful, you know. I'm smart and funny and caring and fun. Does anyone care about that?_

"Okay!" Saria exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Now that you're all cleaned up, let's talk business."

"I hate talking business," Zelda mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Let's talk business!"

Saria narrowed her eyes, but continued anyway. "As you know, there will be people waiting to greet you and take your picture."

She meant paparazzi, and they would have a bunch of questions about whatever made up vacation she had taken this time. Saria informed her that she had been on Windfish Island on an anthropological trip, living with natives and assisting in building schools and wells. It sounded like a great trip, one she would actually like to take one day.

But the media wouldn't be interested in the charity work. Why would they care about assisting third-world people when there was her love life to focus on?

 _Any boys? Future husbands? Who designed your bikini? Any pictures? How did you maintain your figure?_

"Afterwards, you'll have two hours of etiquette refreshment courses with your sister, and then a fitting for a gown for your return ball. Then, of course, your mother and the younger princesses would like to see you, and-"

"What about my father?" Zelda interrupted.

"Interrupting is impolite!" Saria chastised. "Those etiquette classes will do you well-"

"You're avoiding the question!"

Her assistant sighed. "Well, I suppose you should know..."

"Know what?" Zelda demanded.

"Your father and his war council are in session," Saria said slowly. "He commanded an attack on Gerudo soil. He's trying to take out the King."

* * *

 **(Gerudo Desert)**

He'd been riding at full speed for a little more than an hour, blinking the sand out of his eyes and regretting his decision not to grab a water bottle. The sun, while lower in the sky, still beat down on him with furious intensity, as if to taunt him.

 _You're gonna be sunburned by the end of this,_ it chuckled. _Won't that give Nisaa and her friends something to laugh about!_

 ** _It's 5:56, lamb._**

"Stop calling me that!" he yelled over the raging winds and faint sounds of gunshots.

He was close. Relief flooded through him; he wasn't sure if he could go much further. His head was spinning, his legs shaking, his shoulder aching ( _weakling_ ). After a grueling hour of riding through the harsh desert, he was doubting his ability to stop the King's death. Two visions back-to-back had completely sapped his energy; he was running on nothing but stubborn determination.

 _ **5:58 ten minutes left hurry up hurry up 6:08 6:08**_

Link groaned, pushing his Wing faster still. The engine whined in protest, but he pretended not to hear.

Black smoke curled into the sky, accompanied by the fiery orange of exploding grenades and a symphony of grunts and gunshots. His heart pounded in his chest ( _this isn't where I belong I pick vegetables Momma was right I can't go I can't dO THIS_ ) as he reached up to pull an arrow from his quiver.

He'd spent ten years of his life training for combat. Ten years of waking up at three in the morning to run 5 miles and do hundreds of push-ups. Ten years of target practice and sparring and being left in the middle of the desert and told to survive. Ten years of becoming a human weapon (bred and groomed for war), and faced with the real thing, he felt sick.

 _I'm a shame to the Gerudo._

 _ **You're no killer, lamb. You're too good.**_

He could _feel_ it now. The temperature (already hot enough to cook a man) rose ten degrees (body heat and explosions), the hot winds howling as they stung his cheeks.

A shell exploded a hundred feet to his right, rocking his Wing off course. Yelling out of shock, it took all of his strength to turn himself upright. He could practically hear his drill sergeant shouting at him to get out of his head and focus on his surroundings.

 _ **6:01 6:01 hurry hurry not much time left!**_

"I know, I know!"

Within seconds, he found himself in the middle of the fray. Explosions **(heat and death and dying and)** hummed in his ears, bullets and arrows and gods know what else whizzed all around him, and crafts of all kinds (Wings and hover tanks and hovercycles) rained mortar shells on the land.

He had never felt so small, so out of place.

People shouted in languages foreign and native to him, expressions of command, of warning, and of loss.

The desert below was littered with several bodies, like bloodied rag dolls.

 _ **seven minutes, little lamb, seven minutes left**_

He yanked the hood of his cloak over his head, covering his face. The last thing he needed was to be spotted by Ganon, the King, or worse- his _mother_.

 _Turquoise tattoos like snakes._

Darting through the fighting, he scanned for anything familiar, any formation, people, sounds, or situations that he had seen in his vision.

He saw Nisaa baring her teeth at a Hylian man before jabbing an arrow through his chest.

 _I couldn't do that. Maybe she's right, maybe I am weak._

He saw Ganon and his mother back-to-back, engaging two Hylians in hand-to-hand combat. They moved in synchrony, their punches like dance moves they'd rehearsed for hours.

He spotted the King. Removed from the main fighting, he stood on his Wing commanding the battle from afar.

 ** _Five minutes._**

Link's heart pounded, partially out of fear, partially because of his sudden inability to breathe. He gasped for air, but the heat seemed to smother him; every breath tasted of sulfur.

 _Oh gods I'm gonna pass out again oh gods oh gods oh-_

A flash of blue snapped him out of his panic attack. Directly in front of him, gun at the ready, was a girl with very red hair and very turquoise tattoos **(like snakes)**.

Her eyes were narrowed in anger, but when she saw his face (his white, Hylian face), her expression softened and she laughed. Uttering a word he didn't understand, she zipped off to find another target.

 _She thinks I'm on her side._

 _ **HURRY**_

He shot off after her, weaving through the labyrinth of people and bullets. She reached up to her ear- _receiving her orders-_ before nodding and changing her course.

 ** _Three minutes._**

She positioned herself at the edge of the fighting, talking into her earpiece as she loaded her gun- a sniper rifle, he realized.

The King was directly in her line of sight.

Link knew the logical thing to do would be shoot her before she shot the King. That's what his mother would do. That's what Ganon would do. What Nisaa would do, what Asiyah and Adena would do, what _anyone_ would do.

He was at the perfect vantage point. She was distracted. She thought he was fighting on _her side_ for gods sake!

 _Take the shot!_ he screamed at himself. _End it now!_

But he couldn't. He wouldn't.

 ** _Two minutes._**

"Dammit," he muttered, steering his hovercraft back towards the fighting. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

Positioning himself at a spot he could see both her and the King, he replaced the ordinary arrow he had drawn earlier and picked one that had been reinforced with titanium.

His hands trembled as he nocked the arrow. His eyes were glued to the girl, watching her every move.

 ** _One minute._**

He'd made harder shots before, he reminded himself.

 _But the stakes have never been so high._

The girl cocked her gun, peering through the scope. He drew his bow, pointing the arrow at her head.

By now, some nearby Gerudo realized what was happening. They desperately fought to get to the sniper, tried so hard to stop her, but she was guarded. They would never get there in time.

 _ **6:08.**_

Time seemed to slow down. He watched as she knelt down, squinting through the scope.

 _Am I a killer?_

Her finger curled around the trigger.

 _She's a killer. Am I?_

She started to squeeze.

 _No._

He averted his aim and released the bowstring, letting the arrow fly. It knocked the gun from her hand before she had a chance to shoot.

She yelled something angrily (a curse, he guessed) before pulling back and away from the oncoming Gerudo soldiers.

 ** _Well done, lamb._**

Relief flooded his system. He'd saved the King without having to kill.

 _I better get the hell out of here._

High off of adrenaline, he slung his bow over his shoulder and prepared to high-tail it back home before any one recognized him or he got shot. But as he turned his Wing around, he found himself face-to-face with a very angry looking Hylian.

He yelled something at Link, gesturing towards the King.

 _Shit._

Link shook his head, looking around for any route of escape. After the Hylian's plan failed, the fighting had escalated, growing too chaotic for him to escape through.

The Hylian continued to yell, appearing to grow angrier as he spoke. Link continued to shrug and shake his head, not knowing what to do. They didn't have a training class for confrontation.

The Hylian was yelling into his radio now, glaring at Link as he did so.

 ** _Time to go._**

"Sorry, I don't know what you're saying!" Link cried, swerving around the Hylian's craft (something much bulkier than a Wing).

The man was practically screaming into his radio now, pointing frantically at Link.

Adrenaline gone and fear in its place, he wove his way through the thick fighting, desperate to find an exit. He looked over his shoulder to discover that the Hylian man was following him, now accompanied by two more soldiers.

 _ **You should not have let them know that you speak Gerudo.**_

"Too late now!"

They were still tailing him.

They probably thought he was a spy, or maybe the angry one had seen him destroy the gun meant to kill the King. Either way, if they caught up to him it would be bad news.

He swerved, ducked, and rolled, hoping something would throw them off. But they were ruthless, staying with him for every turn he took.

Link was getting tired. Smoke stung his eyes and burned his lungs. His head was starting to spin, and black spots danced in his vision.

 _ **You're pushing yourself too hard,**_ They warned. **_Hurry and escape._**

"I'm trying!" he rasped, flying between a Hylian and a Gerudo trading bullets.

One grazed his arm as he flew by, but he barely noticed. He was too focused on the desert ahead of him, his path to freedom. Turning, he saw that the three soldiers had paused to go around the gunfight, buying him some extra time.

Hope welled in his chest, and he pushed the Wing forward still. There was a hole in the fighting. He was going to make it.

A large Hylian parked his craft right in the way of his escape, smirking triumphantly. Behind him, the other three were catching up and closing in.

 _Dammit!_

Link groaned, pulling an arrow from his quiver, being extra careful not to touch the tip. As he nocked the arrow, the arrow clicked and whirred to life. The large man's eyes widened as Link drew the bow.

He released the shot, and the man laughed. The arrow had landed on the control pad, nowhere near him.

He stopped laughing when electricity crackled from the arrowhead, overpowering the craft's circuits and sending it spiraling to the ground.

 _I don't have to kill to win._

Link sped ahead with renewed urgency. Clear, war-free (war?) desert danced in front of his eyes, only a few short feet away.

 _I'm so close, I can get out, I'm so close so close, I need to rest I need to hurry-!_

 ** _Poor lamb._**

A stray shell (or was it stray?) exploded directly beneath him.

He wasn't sure exactly what happened. The heat engulfed him, his hearing was replaced by a high-pitched ringing, and suddenly the sand was rushing forward to meet him. He didn't even know that he'd been falling.

The sand provided no cushion for his fall. He landed among the smoldering wreck of his Wing, ears ringing, throat burning, eyes filled with tears.

His vision came and went, blurring away the battlefield. He tried to cry out for help- _Momma please I never should have come please help-_ but no sound came out.

The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the angry Hylian man and the girl with red hair standing over him and conversing in a language he didn't understand.

Then the darkness swallowed him, and he felt nothing.

* * *

 **(Hyrule)**

Two more requirements for going to college: at least two members of her security team were to be present on campus at all times (Termina bordered Ikana which bordered Gerudo) and she was never, _ever_ to set foot in Ikana (Gerudo's closest ally and trade partner) or anywhere near the Gerudo border.

The conflict (it wasn't technically a war) between Hyrule and Gerudo had been raging for as long as she could remember (centuries) and was growing more and more violent as time went by.

Hyrule couldn't risk their crown jewel.

When they arrived at Hyrule Castle, she was bombarded with flashing cameras and shallow questions.

Zelda kept a smile on her face, an arm on her bodyguard, and told them things they wanted to hear. She wasn't really listening to their questions, she was too busy trying to figure out what would prompt her father to make such an offensive move.

"Your Highness! Sources say they saw you on the beach with a mystery boy. Is this true, and if so, who is he?" someone yelled.

 _How could "sources" see me if I wasn't there?_

"No boys on this trip," she said, faking a laugh. "I was really trying to immerse myself in the culture of Windfish Island and focus on the acts of charity I went to accomplish."

 _Does he want a full-scale war?_

The last war between Hyrule and Gerudo was a century and a half ago and was so devastating to both countries that they forged a peace treaty to keep the same from happening again. For a while, both countries were content to ignore each other, but sixty years ago, the two nations "forgot" about their treaty and found menial reasons to begin launching minor attacks.

Minor quickly became major, and now her father was ordering the assassination of the Gerudo King.

"Princess! Over here!"

"Can I get a smile, Highness?"

"Who are you wearing?"

She tugged on the arm of her guard, signifying she was ready to go inside.

"Okay people, make way! The princess has things to do!" the guard, a muscular woman named Cremia shouted, shoving through the crowd. Zelda clung to her arm, maintaining her prizewinning smile as she was guided (herded) through the mass of people.

"Princess! Princess, one more question-"

"Over here! Hey! Smile for me!"

"Come on, sweetheart, look over here!"

"Pigs," Cremia muttered under her breath, tightening her grip on Zelda. "We're almost inside, Highness."

Her other body guard, a stoic man named Byrne, was in front of them, shoving a path through the all the people. "Out of the way, come on," he yelled, glaring at anyone who dared to make eye contact.

They finally reached the main entrance, and Zelda let out a sigh of relief as Byrne pushed through the ornate wooden doors. It was deathly quiet in the entrance hall (like usual) and she immediately wished she were back in the chaotic dorms of the U.

"Welcome home!" Saria chirped as she entered.

"Is Hil home yet?" she asked, bending down to take off her uncomfortable heels, much to her assistant's disapproval.

"Your sister should be arriving in about fifteen minutes," Saria said, glaring at Zelda's bare feet.

The princess smiled. The only good part of coming home was seeing her sisters.

"I'll have someone bring your bags to your room," Saria continued. "In the mean time, your mother is waiting for you in the eastern parlor. You're to visit with her until Princess Hilda arrives and your etiquette refreshment begins."

Zelda nodded, running ahead of them. "Sounds good. See you at manners class!"

"Princess! Wait!"

She ignored them of course, laughing as she sprinted through the castle corridors. She felt free again (just for a second) with her bare feet slapping on the cold marble, her expensive necklace bouncing on her neck, and her hair flying out behind her.

The eastern parlor was all the way on the other side of the castle, but she wasn't going there. She would "socialize" with her mother later, there were more important things to worry about now.

 _All out aggression with the Gerudo is foolish and unnecessary. What is he getting himself into?_

As much as she disliked the responsibility of coming home, she had to admit that she loved her home itself; the halls of the old castle were crawling with fond childhood memories.

She passed a staircase that she and Hilda used to snowboard (using baking sheets) down. A tapestry that concealed a passage to the pantry. Halls that they'd rollerbladed down. If she listened hard enough, she could hear faint laughter echoing around her as a ghostly reminder of the past.

Growing up in a castle with minimal parental supervision and a mischievous twin sister naturally resulted in extensive exploration. She knew every twist and turn of the castle, every little nook and cranny, and every hidden passage that others had long forgotten.

Jogging up a back staircase, she took three lefts and a right and found herself standing before the grand doors of her father's office. Two guards stood alert, ready to stop anyone who attempted to disturb him.

Zelda frowned, knowing they would never let her through at a time like this. She'd have to take an alternate route.

Two minutes later, she found herself army crawling through an air duct, blinking the dust out of her eyes and trying not to think about what Saria would say when she saw her ruined outfit.

It had been a long time since her last journey through the castle ventilation system, and she'd grown _a lot_ since then. The walls hugged her on both sides, making her forward progress slow and uncomfortable. She could barely crawl without her head scraping the ceiling.

"This was an awful idea," she grunted, pulling herself onward.

Thankfully, she could hear voices up ahead. She was close. Taking a left down a ( _wider, thank gods_ ) false duct, she reached a rusty old ladder and made her way down.

She was behind the walls of her father's office now. She and Hilda used to spy here all the time when they were younger.

A tiny hole in a painting provided her a limited view of the room. Her father sat at his conference table, surrounded by his top generals and advisors. Everyone's voices were low, and conversations were forced and tense.

She was just about to push open the painting to confront her father, when the ring of a phone cut through the quiet. Every man and woman at the table jumped, grim expressions melting to eager ones.

She shrank back, electing to stay hidden.

 _The results of the mission?_

Her father answered the phone, face neutral.

"Hello."

Silence.

"What!?"

Silence.

"You... what? What do you mean- . Thank you. Pull back immediately, I want you back here as soon as possible. Yes. Goodbye."

The King hung up the phone and looked up to address the table.

"The assassination was thwarted."

There was an immediate uproar of disbelief and anger. Her father silenced it with a stony glare.

"The assassination was thwarted, but the person responsible has been apprehended and is being brought to us as we speak, which may be far more valuable than eliminating Ganondorf."

"How's that?" a woman asked.

"They've captured a Hylian boy," the King said.

"I don't understand-"

"He may have been white, but he shot the gun from the sniper's hands. He spoke Gerudo when confronted and fled our soldiers. The Gerudo have somehow manipulated this boy, and we are going to use him."

* * *

 **I'll hurry on the next chapter, I promise!**


	4. Chapter 4

***update takes over a month* *feebly hides behind the college excuse***

 **But really, it's been a huge transition from high school to college! It's been great so far. Only cried once. Nice. And an FYI,** **I edited the previous chapter slightly to make a few things work a bit better. If you care.**

 **Thanks to Pinkiedash, Samedogsame, Skydragon74193, Imagination that, Charles, TheMixKage, HeroofTime73, XOXO, Guest 1, Oracle of Seasons, Guest 2, AMaeJay, SausageLink43, PianoPlayer1200, Sonochu, Machina per Dei, RandomBut Loved, Arksendis, WiseGirl9859, and Santasnewbag for reviewing! Y'all rock.**

 **~Leila**

* * *

 **[warnings]: mild language, lil bit of torture, lil bit of sexual innuendos**

* * *

 _come away, little lamb, come away to the slaughter._

* * *

He couldn't see.

He could hear the rumble of an engine, and the murmur of voices too low to understand. He could smell gasoline and gunpowder. He felt cool metal on his cheek, tasted copper on his tongue.

But he saw nothing but darkness.

 _Where am I?_

His head was foggy, and everything hurt _(his face was hot, his back was throbbing, his legs were useless)_.

 _How did I get here?_

He couldn't remember.

The pain and the fogginess reclaimed him, and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

He woke up again, and this time he could see. The blindfold had been removed, and a bright white light shone in his face.

White people in white uniforms hovered around him, talking in a language he didn't know. A tube pumped a liquid into his arm (poison? sedative? truth serum?) and his face had been done up with bandages.

His mind was still hazy- _where am I-_ but the pain was gone, replaced with a floating sensation that made panic well up in his chest.

 _They've drugged me._

He tried to squirm, to get up, to move, but found that his arms had been bound to the table he was lying on.

He began to thrash wildly, kicking at any attendant who attempted to come near him. A distant beeping sound increased with his heart rate, and he began to scream.

"Mom! Mom, help me! Mom, please help!"

He felt someone jab a needle into his leg, and he soon found himself completely paralyzed and at their mercy.

"Mom," he choked out a last time.

A single tear rolled down his cheek before whatever drug they'd injected in him knocked him out again.

* * *

 _"Can you understand us?"_

 _His vision was hazy; all he could see were gray blobs and dark shapes. Everything was soft and there were no harsh lines._

 _"Can you understand what I'm saying?" one of the blobs asked, speaking slowly. Its voice was staticky and distant, like it was coming from an old-fashioned radio._

 _(what are they saying)_

 _"Is this real?" he croaked._

 _(am I here)_

 _"Do you speak Hylian?"_

 _"Where am I?"_

 _(mom come help is this real what are they saying please wh-)_

* * *

"Kid... Hey, kid!"

"Wake up!"

 ** _Link._**

Link's eyes snapped open to see two white men looking down at him, shouting things at him that he didn't understand.

 _Why are there so many men? Where do they come from?_

 _...Where am I?_

He was lying on a cot in a cold, unfamiliar room.

His mind was still clouded, and his splitting headache didn't help. He vaguely remembered explosions and turquoise, but he was drawing a blank as to how he got to where he was.

"Good, he's awake. The King wants to see him."

 _What are they saying?_

They dragged him to his feet. His hands were bound with iron chains, though they didn't need to be. He was so weak he could hardly stand.

 _A Gerudo never shows weakness._

Holding his head high and donning his nastiest glare, he allowed them to lead him through a winding maze of dark tunnels and empty cells. He was being held in some kind of high-security dungeon, he realized.

 _Hyrule Castle?_

He remembered _(explosions, turquoise, guns, bullets)_ being thrown off of his Wing. They must have taken him hostage.

His heart fluttered with fear, but he only bared his teeth in a snarl.

Every guard they passed spat at his feet.

 _Nothing new._

"Traitor," they hissed.

He didn't know what it meant, but it didn't sound good. Not that he cared. He was a son of the desert; he was above their petty words.

 _Sticks and stones may break my bones._

The two men led him into a dark room, empty except for a table and chair. Link swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn't like dark rooms.

One pushed him into the chair, and the other wasted no time in chaining his hands to the table. Panic gripped him. He'd heard countless horror stories of the Hylian's "electric chair."

 _Am I being executed?_

"Think the King'll go easy on 'im? He doesn't even look old enough to drink!"

They were talking again, and Link cursed his choice to go into the military instead of becoming an interpreter. What good were his heightened fighting skills if he was too weak to use them?

"You know the King," the other sighed. "He's relentless. Nothing will stop him from getting the information he wants, not even this kid's age."

They exited the room, their incomprehensible chatter fading into silence.

He was alone.

 _Get out of your head and pay attention to your surroundings._

He'd gone through countless capture simulations. In theory, he could escape from virtually any type of imprisonment. But this wasn't theory, it was real life.

Pulling at the chains experimentally, he found he was tightly fastened in place. The chair and table had both been bolted to the floor. Interestingly enough, his feet had not been bound.

"Going somewhere?"

The cold voice startled him, and he looked up to see a tall man with graying hair and steely eyes entering the room. By the way he carried himself (standing tall, puffed up chest, trying to appear as big as possible) and the authority in his voice, Link could only assume that this was someone very high in command. He was accompanied by a smaller man with red hair and glasses, who Link immediately dismissed as unimportant.

The tall man sat himself in the chair opposite of him, while the redhead stood behind him with a notepad and recorder.

 _They want information (I'd rather DIE)._

"Hello," the redheaded man said, speaking in Gerudo, which surprised him. "My name is Shad, and I will be translating for you. What is your name?"

Link didn't respond.

The redheaded man, Shad, frowned, then leaned down to whisper something to the tall man. "Perhaps you should greet him? Make him feel welcome."

Tall man nodded before turning back to face him. "My name is Alaric Nohansen, King of Hyrule," he greeted with a (plastic, rehearsed) smile. "I hope we can cooperate with each other."

He extended his hand to Link as Shad repeated what he said in Gerudo.

 _The King!_

Link remained silent, glaring at the King until he retracted his hand.

"Hm. You're a stubborn one. Very well, I'll have you choking on your pride soon enough," the King growled, cracking his knuckles.

Link noted the gesture, one his step-father made countless times. Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms the best he could in chains and put on his most defiant look. If the King wanted to beat him around, so be it. He could take it.

Shad translated. He didn't reply.

"I just want to ask a few questions, son. I'm not your enemy."

Shad relayed this, and it was all he could do to keep from scoffing out of disbelief. This was the man who ordered the assassination of the King, an event that would have crippled his country and brought the Gerudo to their knees.

"We're the same, my boy. Look at our skin," the King said.

He held his arm out, stark white against the black table, as Shad translated.

For the first time in his life, Link felt dark. His suntanned skin didn't look white at all compared to the pale, veiny arm of the Hylian King. As he looked at the King's skin, his white, Hylian skin, he saw nothing familiar. He could see veins and bruises and discoloration, but he only knew bronze and scars and freckles.

 _We don't have the same skin. We don't speak the same language._

 _I am a **Gerudo**. _

He remained silent, looking away from the King to make sure he knew that he wasn't going to be cooperating.

"You want to do this the hard way?" the King said, tone soft but full of malice. "Fine." The tall man stood up, hands curling into fists. Link noticed the scabs on his knuckles. "Let's do this the hard way."

* * *

 **(two and a half days later)**

* * *

The King paced back and forth, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

On the other side of the darkly tinted window behind him was the traitor boy, slumped over in his chair. Shad and one of his best interrogators, a Terminian man named Viscen, were trying (in vain) to extract some (any) scrap of information from the boy. A name. A location. _Something_.

The boy hadn't spoken a word in two days. No amount of coaxing, threatening, bargaining, bribing, or torture seemed to have any effect on him. He simply stared at them with his big blue eyes.

The King was growing impatient. If there was to be a war, he needed information. He needed the upper hand. He had to _win_.

"I'm going to ask you one more time," he heard Viscen say. The man's voice was surprisingly even. "What is the significance of the symbol on your back?"

Shad repeated what he said in the Gerudo's dirty, filthy language.

To no one's shock, the boy remained silent.

Viscen sighed. "I don't like doing this, kid."

He flipped a switch that sent a violent electric shock through the boy's handcuffs. The boy jerked and cried out in pain, but otherwise stayed quiet. A single tear leaked from those baby blue eyes.

"Do you feel like talking now?"

Nothing.

"This is getting nowhere," the King growled under his breath.

Viscen was asking him a different, less intrusive question that the King didn't bother listening to. The boy wouldn't answer.

Another yell meant another shock.

The cycle would continue.

"Impaz," the King said quietly.

A figure broke away from the shadows, coming to stand dutifully at his side. "Your Majesty."

The elderly woman was his most trusted advisor. She'd raised him from infancy (he loved her more than he loved his own mother) and was always there to provide guidance when he needed it. Her daughter, Impa, was doing the same for his Zelda (or at least trying). He always knew he could count on her to steer him down the right path.

"What am I doing wrong?" he asked, eyes fixed on the boy.

His breathing was labored; a shimmer of sweat showed on his forehead.

Another shock.

They stood in silence as Impaz drank in the scene, watching the boy spasm and groan. They stood for a few more (hours?) minutes, until finally Impaz moved forward to turn off the microphone that allowed them to hear into the other room.

The screams stopped.

"No, wait, I need that on, what if he-"

"He won't," Impaz said sharply, cutting off the King.

"But-"

"No buts!" Impaz exclaimed. "You forget who you're dealing with, Alaric. This isn't a war-hardened criminal. This is a _child_."

The King looked back out at the boy. She was right, he knew. He had a baby face and an innocence about him that the war hadn't touched. In fact, the kid couldn't be any older than his own daughters.

"What's the best way to defeat an enemy?" Impaz asked him. There was a cryptic look in her eyes, reminiscent of when had been no more than a boy himself.

Her riddles used to drive him crazy.

 _There are six eggs in the basket. Six people each take one of the eggs. How can it be that one egg is left in the basket?_

"With power," he offered.

The wrinkled woman shook her head, smiling kindly. "The best way to defeat an enemy is to make him your friend."

He frowned. "What are you saying?"

"He's scared, Ric. He's no more than a boy. He needs people like him to talk to, to befriend. Then, and only then, will he open up to you."

"When you say 'people like him,' do you mean...?"

Impaz nodded. "I do. Your daughters are perhaps the only people that can get anything out of him now."

The King nodded slowly. Part of him saw the danger, the risks, the what-ifs and the it's-possibles. But most of him saw the logic, the cunning, the advantage. His ticket to winning.

"Have someone fetch them for me," he said to Impaz, turning back to the boy. "It's time they were introduced."

* * *

Zelda could barely keep her eyes open.

After being caught spying on her father (stupid Impa and her Sheikah ways) she'd been sentenced to nonstop etiquette classes. Today marked day five of being forced to watch videos on the proper ways to sit, stand, talk, eat, sleep, breathe, and live. She was going crazy.

(Her father had had a Gerudo-speaking Hylian in captivity for nearly four days and she was learning about silverware placement).

"Are you paying attention, Highness?" her nanny-slash-bodyguard called from her spot in the corner.

She cast a glare over at Impa. "We're still not on speaking terms, traitor."

"Oh come on, stop being a child," Impa said, rolling her eyes. "You knew better than to spy on your father. I thought you were past your sneaking around the castle days."

"Not when it concerns a potential unnecessary war! And for the last time, it wasn't my _intention_ to spy. I just wanted to speak with him!"

"And do what?" Impa challenged. "Change his mind? And regardless of your original intention, you were snooping where you shouldn't have been and hearing things that weren't meant for your ears. As heir to the throne, you-"

"Yeah, yeah, I need to assume responsibility for my actions," Zelda grumbled, picking at her freshly manicured nails. "But how can I stand behind my father's actions when I disagree with them?"

"I don't have the answer to that, Princess," Impa said truthfully. "That's a question you're going to have to answer yourself."

"You're absolutely zero help."

"I'm a warrior, not a philosopher. Now pay attention!"

Zelda glanced at the television screen, where Pixie the very peppy animated fairy was talking through the steps of proper ballroom dancing. She'd had enough of these trivial videos.

"Can I at least go to the bathroom first?" she asked.

"I don't know, can you?"

Zelda rolled her eyes. "You're the worst."

"And you're a brat. Just hurry, please."

Zelda nodded, walking as calmly (normally) as she could to the bathroom. As soon as she was inside, she locked the door and kicked off her wedged heels.

"Time to get the hell out of here," she muttered, standing on the toilet and prying open the tiny bathroom window.

She managed to squeeze through the tiny opening with minimal scrapes and bumps and found herself on the slanted roof of Hyrule Castle. The shingles were cold and damp beneath her bare feet, and a brisk morning breeze tousled her hair.

"Wonderful."

When the castle's maze of passages failed as a route of escape, the roof was the next best thing. She scampered lightly across the sloped surface, grinning as the sun hit her face. By the time Impa realized she was missing, she would be on the other side of the castle.

It was a gorgeous morning.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky, providing her with a lovely view of Hyrule City. People bustled about in the streets, looking like tiny bugs from her high vantage point. Cars honked distantly, and the Saturday morning farmers market added a steady backdrop of noise.

If she squinted, she could just make out the mountain range that separated the kingdom from Termina.

Nostalgia wormed its way into her gut, and the thought of running away crossed her mind (and not for the first time). She and her sisters used to spend hours devising escape plans. Most of them involved wearing all black and sneaking out at night through overly-complicated routes of secret passages.

The point was that they were unrealistic, because they couldn't run away. It was a childish dream conceived before the burden of responsibility.

She quickened her pace. Padding along on the slippery roof was treacherous work, but with years of practice she was able to travel at a decent speed. Besides, she was approaching her destination: the kitchen. Only a couple hundred feet stood between her and homemade pastries.

The thought of a warm cheese danish fueled her, and she quickened her pace to a slow jog. She had to hurry and get off the roof before Impa spotted her and called the fire department to get her down (again). That had been embarrassing.

She was nearly there, when a window flew open with a loud bang. She squealed in spite of herself, waiting for Impa to emerge with murder in her eyes.

Zelda was _extremely_ relieved to see Hilda squeeze through the window, grinning up at her lopsidedly.

"Wow. Someone's on edge this morning," her sister joked as she stood up, tossing her glossy hair over her shoulder. Her hair color was constantly changing. It had been sky blue before college, crimson over winter break, and lilac for spring. It was a deep indigo now, and Zelda thought the color really suited her.

"I just escaped from Impa's torture chamber," Zelda said, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder. "Can you blame me?"

Hilda shuddered. "I'm running from Portia, actually. Apparently mom doesn't like the new color and has ordered her army of hair stylists to hunt me down."

"What a coincidence! I was just on my way to the kitchen. Care to join?" Zelda asked, offering her arm to her twin.

Hilda grinned and looped her arm through Zelda's. "I'm always a slut for pastries."

"You're always a slut in general," Zelda noted.

"I'd be offended, but it's true. Like, I'm so much of a slut that there was a point this year that I thought I had syphilis."

Zelda wrinkled up her nose. "Um, ew?"

"It was a staph infection, so it was okay," her sister giggled.

"Well, duh, you can't get syphilis from another girl, stupid."

Her twin was far from stupid (she attended the University of Hyrule and was triple-majoring in biochemistry, astrophysics, and computer science), but she was very, _very_ gay.

Hilda rolled her eyes and tossed her hair. "It's rare, not impossible. And you're not-"

She was cut off by an arrow whizzing by, only centimeters from her face. The twins shrieked, clinging on to each other as they looked around wildly for the attacker.

"Oh gods. Sorry!" a small voice called from somewhere below them, shout almost lost in the winds.

The twins peered down into the courtyard below them where there stood two blonde girls, one of which was holding a bow that, even from their high vantage point, was obviously way too big for her.

"Figures," Zelda muttered. Hilda grunted her agreement before slowly inching her way down the roof, making her way toward the girls.

The small child with the bow, otherwise known as their youngest sister Hylia, was the most accident prone person she knew. She was constantly tripping over flat surfaces, knocking over vases, and smashing windows with stray baseballs.

Now she was nearly killing people.

The sisters scooted to the edge of the roof and, turning onto their stomachs, found footholds in the thick covering of ivy that was slowly strangling the castle's exterior walls.

Hyrulian ivy, Zelda had discovered, was denser and therefore stronger than other ivy plants. She'd once tried to sneak into her dorm room after curfew by climbing a canopy of Terminian ivy and landed herself in the emergency room with a broken wrist and a bruised tailbone.

She'd never forget calling Ralph at one in the morning, sobbing on the ground as she explained what happened, and hearing him laugh at her through the phone. He'd laughed the entire way to the hospital.

When their feet met solid ground, they turned to face their siblings with arms crossed and identical arched eyebrows.

"How do you miss a target that bad?" Hilda demanded.

"Ask Hy," their middle sister, Sheik, said, elbowing the youngest.

"Sorry," the aforementioned Hy mumbled, wringing her hands around the bow in such a way that Zelda was scared she would snap it in half.

"You almost gave Hil an unwanted nose job," Zelda told her.

"No, she was trying to kill me. Everyone knows she's been plotting to pick us off one by one and take the throne," Hilda corrected her.

Hylia giggled at that, guilt beginning to melt off of her innocent little face. It was then that Zelda noticed the set of throwing knives strapped to Sheik's thigh, the various targets placed around the yard, and the small pile of weapons (likely stolen from the knight's training yard) in the corner.

"What's going on here?" she asked, motioning to Sheik's knives. "I'm guessing Mom and Dad don't know?"

"They think we've been practicing lawn bowling," Sheik informed her, unsheathing one of the knives and twirling it in her fingers.

"I don't even know what lawn bowling is," Hylia quipped, struggling to nock another arrow.

"And what are you actually doing?" Hilda asked, picking a broadsword out of their pile. "I was joking earlier, but now I'm pretty convinced you two are planning a coup d'etat."

"We're just practicing," Sheik said, rolling her _(red, not blue not royal, red)_ eyes. "You never know." With that, she launched the knife she was holding at the target with practiced precision. It buried itself only inches from the bullseye.

Hilda nodded approvingly. "Don't snap your wrist so much. The knife will rotate by itself."

Sheik grunted her thanks, walking to retrieve her knife. "What were you two doing on the roof?"

"Shirking responsibility."

"Running from an evil hairdresser."

"The usual," Zelda concluded with a sigh.

"You can hang with us if you want," Hy offered, face contorted with frustration as her arrow slipped from her bowstring once again.

She finally succeeded in nocking the arrow. Turning toward the beat-up old target, she wrapped her fist around the string and began to pull back.

"Just three fingers," Zelda coached, leaning back on the castle wall.

"That's what she said," Hilda whispered, coming to lean next to her.

Zelda elbowed her twin in the ribs.

Hylia did as Zelda had instructed and pulled the bowstring back again, this time with only three fingers. Her skinny arm trembled with exertion.

"Don't close one eye when you aim," Hilda called. "Just squint."

"This is hard," Hy complained, struggling to keep the string pulled back.

She released, or maybe she just couldn't keep the string pulled back any longer, and the arrow buried itself in the grass a few feet behind the target. The youngest sister scowled before stomping over to retrieve it.

"It just takes practice," Zelda told her. "You'll get there."

"Says Miss 'I'm Perfect at Everything'," Hylia grumbled.

"Oh, shut up, Hy."

It was quiet for a few moments. The only sounds were the thuds of Sheik's knives hitting the target, and Hy's grunts as she attempted to nock the arrow yet again.

Then Hilda sighed and turned to look at her twin. "Remember when we were their age? And our only problem was figuring out how to load a bow?"

Zelda did. She remembered the pillow fights and sliding in socks down the marble halls and sneaking raw cookie dough from the kitchen without realizing that the cook was leaving it out for them.

"No. I never had the problem of learning how to nock and arrow because I wasn't dumb," Zelda replied cheekily.

Hilda elbowed her. "You brat, you know what I meant."

"Yeah, I know."

They lapsed into another silence. Zelda was suddenly very paranoid that Impa was going to crash through a window at any second.

Sheik helped Hylia nock the arrow, whispering something to her that sent the girl into fits of giggles. A strong wind knocked over one of their targets. Hilda ran her finger along the edge of the broadsword.

"I was thinking about running away earlier today," Zelda finally said. "About how easy it would be."

Hilda nodded, eyes still on their sisters. "I think about that all the time at college. I'd just slip away, pick up the girls, then come up to get you from Termina. Then we'd just... go. I don't know where, but it'd be somewhere far. Holodrum. The Great Sea. Somewhere like that."

"Why didn't we do it when we were younger? Before we had consciences, when responsibilities and heiresses didn't matter?"

Hylia shot her second arrow. This one stuck in the bottom edge of the target. Her face lit up, then quickly fell as one of Sheik's knives splintered her arrow in half. Sheik laughed as Hylia shoved her, sputtered angrily.

"I'd say it was because we didn't know back then, but we did."

"What do you mean?" Zelda asked, brows furrowing.

"It's not like we didn't know we were princesses back then," Hilda said. "We knew things were gonna suck, but it didn't suck then, so we put it off. By the time things got bad, it was too late."

Zelda nodded slowly. "If you put a frog in boiling water, it'll jump out."

"If you put a frog in cold water and slowly heat it up, the frog will die before it realizes what's going on," Hilda finished.

It was quiet. The light atmosphere had vanished.

 _It was too late when mommy cheated on daddy and both stopped talking to you_ _and are you your parent's children or just accessories your mom has only said twenty-three words to you in the past two years and yes you counted_ _and people take pictures of you all the goddamn time and the tabloids accuse you of dating everyone you talk to and_

"Girls?"

Zelda looked up at the sound of the new voice.

An older Sheikah woman, wrapped up in traditional garb, stood by the entrance to the courtyard, a warm smile on her withered face. "My, this is a rather violent game of lawn bowling," she said, nodding at the pile of weapons.

"Impaz, we can explain-" Sheik began.

"Please don't tell our parents!" Hylia cried, eyes wide.

"Don't worry, child, I'm not here to tell on you."

"Unlikely," Hilda muttered.

Impaz was their father's right-hand woman. Regardless of her intent for seeking them out, there was no chance that she wouldn't pass on this tidbit to their dad.

"Oh," Hy said, twisting her hands around the bow again. "Then why are you here?"

Impaz sighed. "I'm sure you all know of the Hylian boy they found in Gerudo the other day."

Zelda perked up, suddenly twenty times more interested.

"Yeah," Sheik said. "So?"

"Your father has been attempting to interrogate him for the past few days, and the boy has yet to speak a word."

"And by 'interrogate' you mean torture," Hilda cut in. "Don't make him sound better than he is."

Impaz acted as if she hand't said a thing. "Your father believes that the current methods for getting information will not work. He's turning to another approach."

"What does this have to do with us?" Zelda demanded, getting impatient.

Impaz smiled kindly. "I was getting there, dearest. Your father believes that you girls are the only ones who can open him up. He wants you to spend time with him, to make him feel comfortable. When he's comfortable, he'll talk. And when he talks, Hryule will win this war."

* * *

 **once again, super sorry for long update. as you all know, i'm lazy af. i rushed zelda's bit in order to publish this sooner, so i may go back and edit later. thanks for putting up with me guys, i'll try to get the next chapter out in less time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**we're getting straight down to business. cheers.**

 **~Leila**

 **(thanks to reviewers, favorite-ers and followers! you're all appreciated!)**

* * *

 **warnings: language, mentions of torture**

* * *

 _and rain will make the flowers grow._

* * *

 _"So what you're saying is you want us to manipulate this boy into thinking we care about him while we siphon information from him that will allow our father to destroy his country."_

 _"Exactly."_

* * *

They had to undergo extensive briefing before they were allowed to see him.

A summary of the war. A recap of how he was found. A presentation of Hyrule's goals, and a list of information the military needed. A safety debrief accompanied with tips on how to combat various escape tactics.

And finally, a video of the prisoner directly after capture. They weren't shown footage from the King's interrogation _(torture)_.

Zelda was surprised by how young he was.

He was lying on a steel table for his medical exam, his arms, legs, and face covered with burns from the explosion and scrapes from his collision with the sand. His back, though, was the interesting part.

A triangular symbol, which their father called a "triforce" had been carved into his back. It was an ugly mess of blood, scabs, and scar tissue, which the doctor examining him said could be an indication that this wound was being inflicted over and over and over.

After they dressed and bandaged all his wounds, he looked like a mummy, straight from a fiction novel.

She couldn't look when the boy woke up.

He looked like a puppy in a bear trap, blue eyes wide with terror as he jerked against his restraints. He lashed out at the nurses and kept screaming the same thing again and again.

It was almost heartbreaking.

Hylia was hiding her face in Hilda's lap. The King watched the footage with a straight face.

"What's he saying?" Hilda asked Shad, the translator.

"He's saying 'mom,'" he said, after a moment of hesitation. "He's calling for his mom."

* * *

No one spoke as they were led through the maze of halls in the Dungeon. Harsh fluorescent lights beat down on the shiny white floors. It stung her eyes to look down for too long.

The four princesses were in the middle of a cluster of guards. The King, Shad, Captain Viscen and Impaz were at the head of the pack.

The procession stopped at a black door, where two guards stood on either side. The King typed in a code on a keypad, and the locks clicked open. They continued into the belly of the Dungeon.

Many of the cells were empty.

Many of the imprisoned were lying on their bunks with open, unfocused eyes, or staring at the walls of their cell with murderous eyes and a straight face.

Some of them rushed to the bars as they passed. Some of them yelled things, some just spit at their feet.

"Burn in hell, Nohansen!"

"Screw you, you ugly bastard!"

"Suck my-"

Zelda placed her hands over Hylia's ears. She didn't need to hear.

They kept walking. Soon they were out of the cell block and passing more specialized rooms. Solitary Confinement, Interrogation, Intelligence, Excecution. These were only a few of the signs she saw plastered onto the black doors that lined the hall.

"How much further?" Hylia asked one of the guards, her soft voice like a shout in the silence.

He didn't answer her.

They kept walking.

* * *

 _Their lights were brighter here. The red, green, and blue in their typical order, but instead of the hazy figures he was used to seeing, sharp silhouettes were visible against the lights._

 ** _"We didn't mean for this to happen."_**

 _"Then get me out," he croaked._

 ** _"You know we can't do that, lamb."_**

 _He was silent for a moment. A tear leaked from his eye._

 _"Do you hate me?" he asked._

 ** _"Hate you? Of course not."_**

 _"Then why is everything bad?"_

 _They smiled. He couldn't see Them smile, but he could feel. It was warm and enveloped him like a hug. He turned away._

 ** _"Yours is a hard path, lamb. But not for much longer. Trust them, for they are the bridge to peace."_**

 _They began to fade. Panic welled up in his chest. "Wait! Don't leave me alone, please!"_

 ** _"Tr...ust... the...m..."_**

 _"Trust who? Don't go! Trust WHO?"_

* * *

They finally arrived at Special Detention Block N64.

The King keyed in another code (Zelda noted that this one started with a one and ended with a six) and the door slid open. Their entourage of guards stayed back, allowing the princesses to file in.

He was sleeping when they arrived, curled into a tight ball on his cot. Most of the bandages were gone, and he looked skinnier than he had in the video they were shown.

His blonde hair was long and matted, his hands were balled into fists.

A sheet of thick, reinforced glass separated them from him. It was deathly quiet in the room.

The King nodded at Viscen, who nodded back before going to the side of the cage- was it a cage? A cell?- and keyed in yet another code. The wall slid open, startling the boy from his sleep. Viscen yanked him to his feet.

He went with the Captain willingly, blinking the sleep out of big blue eyes.

Viscen sat him in a chair at a table, and his hands were bound in chains. Shad set out four chairs opposite him. Zelda noted that the skin around his wrists had been rubbed raw.

"We'll leave you alone for now," she heard her father say. By "alone" he meant with Shad, Viscen, and at least five cameras watching their every move. "Just get familiar with him. Introduce yourselves."

The door to the cell slammed shut.

It was quiet.

"So, um," Shad coughed, shattering the delicate silence. "Why don't you, ah, go ahead and introduce yourselves?" He clicked on a recording device and produced a pen and notepad from his jacket. "We have to record everything for... You know."

Zelda looked back at the boy. Dark circles rimmed his blank eyes.

"I'm Hilda."

Her twin spoke confidently, flashing the boy a prize-winning smile. Shad repeated what she said in Gerudo.

"My name's Sheik."

"I'm Hylia, nice to meet you!"

The boy's eyes flicked to her, and a shiver ran down her spine.

She couldn't explain it, but something about this boy was off-putting. It was his eyes (too blue, too frightening), his demeanor (quiet, nonchalant, the way one would act at dinner party where they didn't know anyone), his hands (the way they were knotted so tightly, clasped together for dear life).

"Zelda," she finally said. "My name is Zelda."

Shad relayed this to the boy.

He didn't say anything.

Shad explained that he was going to ask the boy's name to see if he would respond.

He didn't.

He just watched, eyes traveling down the line of princesses, occasionally pausing to examine one before moving on again.

When his eyes rested on her, she felt that tingling again. The air hummed around her, thrumming with some energy that she couldn't place, screaming to be released-

Finally, he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, signifying that he was done with their short-lived, one-sided conversation. Viscen muttered something derogatory under his breath. Shad sighed.

* * *

"I wonder why he doesn't talk."

They were standing in the Wardrobe Room, being fussed on by attendants and seamstresses. Their mother demanded that they all be fitted for gowns for Hilda and Zelda's return ball, probably thinking it would get their minds off of the morning's encounter.

It didn't.

Zelda winced as her corset was pulled tighter still.

"Would you talk if your situations were reversed?" Sheik asked through gritted teeth. Her corset was being laced up as well. A tailor held a bolt of red cloth to her skin before shaking his head.

"Of course she would. Hylia couldn't shut up if her life depended on it," Hilda said. Portia, her maid, held a strand of her inky hair in her hand and was talking rapidly with the attendant beside her.

"Ha, ha," Hylia sneered. "But really, why? Is he mute?"

"No, stupid, he talked in the video," Zelda cut in as a tape measure wrapped around her waist.

"Tch, 28. We'll have to get you on a diet plan," the woman muttered.

Zelda scowled at her.

"Then why won't he talk to us?"

"Think about it," Hilda said as a tailor slipped a ruffled petticoat over her head. "We're at war with his home country. Who are we to him?"

"The bad guys," Sheik replied, hissing as an attendant took a pair of tweezers to her eyebrows.

Their youngest sister frowned. Her cheeks were dusted with two different shades of blush, and five different stylists were debating which one looked better. "But _we're_ not bad."

"How would he know?"

Then their mother entered the room. Talk of politics fell silent, and they were at the mercy of the stylists.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of lilac fabrics, lace details, and pearl buttons. Champagne eyeshadow, curls in the hair, and the discussion of sky blue versus cobalt and which would compliment those royal eyes the best.

* * *

 _"Why won't you just let me die?"_

 ** _Pardon?_**

 _He sat cross-legged among the blackness of in-between. Their light hit his face, illuminating him in a triad of colors. He seemed to wind up in-between every time he closed his eyes now. Not that he minded. It wasn't Hyrule Castle._

 _"Why won't you just kill me? I'm gonna die soon anyway."_

 ** _It isn't your time, lamb._**

 _"'My time' is only in six years, you Three told me yourselves! Just put me out of my misery now!" he was yelling, but he wasn't sure why._

 _He suddenly noticed that his cheeks were slightly damp and his hands were trembling and that he really wanted one of his mom's too-tight hugs and one of Ganon's usually annoying hair ruffles._

 ** _Your time is not up. You're not supposed to die now, or in six years. You're supposed to live a long, long time._**

 _"But you said-"_

 ** _It's not up to Us, lamb. It's up to you."_**

 _"That doesn't make any sense."_

 ** _Perhaps not. But it's the truth._**

 _He frowned. "If it's my choice, then why won't you let me die?"_

 _There was a pause. The space around him had an air of... exasperation. Like his mother asking him to make his bed for the fifth time._

 ** _"Because it is not time. You'll have that choice when it comes, it is your choice. But right now, you are needed on earth."_**

 _A tear slid down his cheek. Red, blue, and green light danced in the tiny drop._

 _"It's just hard."_

 ** _We know. But wake up now, lamb. She's coming in._**

 _"Who-?"_

* * *

"I'd like to see him again."

Her father looked up at her over the hefty budget report he had been reading, peering at her through his reading glasses. He'd only started wearing them recently, when the stray gray hairs began multiplying and age dragged his face down.

"Hm?"

"The Gerudo boy. I want to see him again," she repeated.

It was seven o'clock. She'd done a lot of thinking during the three grueling hours of being fitted for a ball gown and the painfully long family dinner, during which no one spoke to anyone.

"May I inquire as to why, Zelda dear?" her father asked, eyes going back to the (more important) report.

"I just want to get more comfortable around him. If we're going to extort information from him he needs to like us, and I think a meeting with just me might be less intimidating."

Her father sighed, flipping to the next page in his packet. "First of all, I don't think 'extort' is the right word here."

Zelda's eyes flicked to his knuckles, covered in scabs.

"Second, I'm not comfortable sending you in there alone."

"I won't be alone. There's cameras in the cell, guards outside the door, and besides, he's in a cage anyway."

"Again, 'cage' isn't the word I'd use."

Now it was her turn to sigh. "Dad-" he raised his eyebrows, "Your Majesty," she amended. "I'm not sure why you assigned us this task if you won't even let me see him. It's hard to gain someone's trust if you're only allowed to see them during heavily guarded sessions."

To her surprise, her father began to chuckle. "You're exactly like your mother was at your age. Always needing to make an argument out of nothing."

Zelda bristled. Being compared to her mother by her father was the farthest thing from a compliment. "But we aren't arguing, are we? I'm simply asking your permission to do something you asked me to do."

The King shook his head, eyes never leaving his report. In fact, Zelda didn't think he had looked up at her once since she'd walked in. "Do what you think you must. I don't care."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said, turning to the door.

"Zelda," he said as her hand touched the knob. "You're so smart. Be careful."

* * *

Her father insisted that Captain Viscen escort her there personally. No words passed between them as they walked through the white hallways of the Dungeon. There were just the yells of the prisoners.

 _Hey, princess, c'mere!_

 _Come gimme a kiss, baby, come on!_

 _Damn, I'd like to get me some of that!_

Her grip tightened around the bag of things she'd brought with her. Viscen gripped her shoulder tightly and didn't let go until they were out of the cell block.

They came up on Special Detention Block N64, and he keyed in the code (the one that started with one and ended with a six and was the second to last digit an eight?) that opened up the door.

"I'll be right out here. Just call if you need me."

Zelda nodded, unconcerned. "Thank you."

She entered the cell, and the door slid shut behind her.

The boy was awake. He sat on the edge of his bed, big blue eyes bright and alert, watching her come in. If she didn't know better, she'd think that he knew she was coming.

"Hello," she said, flashing him a bright smile.

He didn't respond and she didn't expect him to.

She plopped her bag down sat on the floor beside his cell. Before coming down to the Dungeons, she'd taken a trip to the castle library and grabbed a couple of graphic-laden books on Gerudo. He had to be homesick. She knew she would be.

Her father's method of lining the four of them up before him while he was chained to a table made her uncomfortable. If she were in his shoes, she would want a friend. Someone who genuinely seemed to care.

Zelda took out one of her books, this one written by a photographer who walked from one end of the desert to the other and documented the journey in pictures. The cover featured the distant silhouette of Fortress, Gerudo's capital, against a sunset background.

She made sure to show him the cover. His eyes widened ever-so slightly.

She smirked, turning the book back to her. She had his attention.

Minutes passed. She flipped through the pages slowly, reading the author's comments on the pictures several times over before moving on to the next photograph.

He didn't move for a while. He just watched her turn the pages, drinking in the pictures from afar.

More minutes. More pages. More pictures.

Zelda began to get worried. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe he wasn't homesick and was sitting on his bed cursing her family and planning their demise.

Then she heard a rustling, and turned to see the boy taking a seat on the floor next to her. He leaned against the wall of glass, drew his knees to his chest, and looked at her expectantly.

She smiled and turned the page. This one was a striking shot of a rock formation the author had taken refuge under during a sandstorm. The next was a close-up of a gross worm creature's burrow, one the author called a 'Moldorm.'

They sat for hours, flipping through book after book. Occasionally he tapped the glass and shook his head when he wanted her to stay on a page for longer. A picture of a laughing Gerudo child in a small village. The front gates of the mighty Fortress. Rolling sand dunes against a cloudless blue sky. She watched him as he stared at these pages, water in his eyes and a wistful expression on his face.

Eventually, she closed the last book.

He looked at her, confused (upset?), and she shrugged. "There's no more, I'm sorry," she said.

The boy frowned, then pointed to the first book they'd looked at, then at himself.

"You want to keep it?" Zelda pointed at the book, and then at him.

He nodded.

"Of course."

She dropped it in the steel drawer used for giving him meals, sliding it over to his side. He grabbed it off the tray eagerly, catching her off guard with a smile like the sun. She couldn't help but to smile back.

"You're welcome."

With that, she slung the bag over her shoulder and prepared to leave the block. She was rather satisfied with herself, and couldn't wait to let her father know that'd she'd progressed further with him in two hours than he had in a week.

A sudden banging sound halted her exit. She turned to see him knocking on the glass, eyes wide.

"Hm?"

He cleared his throat. "Link," he said, pointing at himself.

Her eyes widened. "Link?" she repeated.

The boy nodded, pointing at himself again. "Link."

She got the hint. "Zelda," she said, pointing to herself.

His brow furrowed as he rolled the unfamiliar word around in his head. "Sel-dah," he said finally, the word clumsy in his mouth.

She nodded. "That's right. Zelda."

He smiled again. "Sel-dah."

"Nice to meet you, Link."

* * *

 **sorry for the wait, but is anyone surprised? one reviewer said they** **didn't believe my claim that i would update faster, and hey, you were right not to!**

 **anywho, i was experimenting with a different style this chapter and i'm not sure how i feel about it. i cut it up into a bunch of little vignettes instead of having one linear chapter. what do you guys think?**

 **thanks for sticking with me! the next chapter will be out as soon as it's out. i'll make an effort to hurry, but calculus is kicking my ass** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 **plz review! thanks guys!**

 **~leila**


	6. Chapter 6

**ok kids, i'm back with another chapter. i apologize for the long wait, i've been** **working through some personal problems (that's code for crippling depression) that have made it hard for me to write. thanks for sticking with me!**

 **thank you to Please update (lmao sorry!), Geinea Lombax, Turkey turkey, Shadowpelt2, Guest 1, Rayst, Imagination that, h, SausageLink43, Marasia, HeroofTime73, Guest 2, RandomButLoved, Whistyrose,** **biggtedd, Machina per Dei, and Sonochu for your reviews! also thanks to everyone who followed/favorited, y'all rock too!**

 **let's get down to business.**

 ***drumroll from _Mulan_ ensues***

 **~Leila**

 **also what the heck is the plural of "oasis?" is it just oasis? oases? oasises? words are hard :/**

* * *

 **[warnings]: mentions of torture and suicide, language**

* * *

 _she asked me, "son, when i grow old, will you buy me a house of gold?"_

* * *

 _"Link? What kind of a name is Link?"_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _They stood out on the King's private balcony, watching the city below them. The blood red sun was just beginning to dip beneath the horizon, but most people were only just getting back to their homes after the morning's raid._

 _"It's weird. He's already white, why do you have to give him an awful name to match?"_

 _The young woman shook her head at her husband, smiling down at the child cradled in her arms. The baby smiled back, scrunching up his nose and letting out a small squeal of delight._

 _"It means 'brave one.'"_

 _"'Brave one,' huh? I don't see what's so brave about a helpless infant."_

 _The woman laughed good-naturedly. "He's little right now, sure. But something in his eyes tells me he's got a lot left to accomplish in this world."_

* * *

He hadn't spoken since.

Not since he'd told the princess- Seldah- his name. Since then, he'd been surrounded by the King and his entourage of interrogators. They must have assumed that since he decided to share his name, he would be willing to spill all of his country's secrets.

So it was back to electric shocks and shouting in a language he didn't understand and punches to the face and flashes of mad anger in the King's steely eyes that reminded him of the rage burning in his own King's eyes as he drove a knife into his back.

This continued for three days. Seldah never came.

"I can go on forever, Link," the King growled as the skinny man translated. "Can you?"

 _Can I?_

He sat cross-legged on his uncomfortable bed, staring blankly at the picture book the princess had brought him. It was open to the page displaying the front gates of Fortress.

Every muscle in his body ached, and blood still trickled from his split lip.

He ran a finger down the glossy page, tracing the swirling runes that decorated the gates. If he closed his eyes, he could practically feel the hot desert wind stinging his cheeks.

 _I could do it._

 ** _Do_ _what?_**

They startled him. He hesitated to answer.

 _I could tear out a page of this book and choke myself._

He braced himself for their response. He wasn't expecting them to laugh.

 _ **Oh, come on, lamb, you're cleverer than that. Is that really the only path of escape you see?**_

He shrugged, feeling his face heat up with shame. They were right. To even think of suicide was stupid; there were too many people depending on him back home.

 ** _Is that really the only thing stopping you from asphyxiating yourself? 'Others depending on you?'_**

He didn't have an answer to that. Instead, he let a single tear fall onto the picture of his home.

 ** _What about seeing your mother again?_** They prompted softly. _**Practicing archery with**_ _ **G** **anon? Mahasti and the kids?**_

"Leave me alone!" he snapped, slamming the book shut.

And then he was full on sobbing, knees drawn to his chest, frame shaking with each intake of breath. His heart was beating too fast and his muscles ached and the cuts on his face stung and the rune on his back was scabbing over and itchy since this was the longest it had ever been closed in his whole life.

 _But I don't want to die._

They didn't respond, and he realized They were waiting for him to continue.

 _I don't want to die, but I don't want to live like this either._

 ** _So what are you going to do about it?_**

He lifted his head and wiped his eyes. Grabbing the book once more, he flipped to the page about Moldorms and other various desert beasts.

 _I'm gonna do my best to get the hell out of here._

* * *

 _"Link, what are you doing?"_

 _The towheaded boy looked up from the book he'd been reading, a smile lighting up his face as the young woman approached him. She sat down and opened her arms to him, laughing as he snuggled into her lap._

 _"Just reading, Momma," he told her, flipping the_ _page._

 _"What's the book about?" she asked, peering over his shoulder._

 _"Geology," he replied. "I'm learning all about how sandstone is formed, and about these clusters of gypsum called desert roses, it's very interesting! Did you know it takes thousands of years to..."_

 _She smiled as he prattled on about the_ _formation of different cave structures, and about how his favorite kind of rock was a sapphire, and though it wasn't found it the desert, he wanted to find one and give it to her as a necklace._

 _Laughing, she kissed the top of his head. "You know, other seven year-olds read books about pirates and superheroes."_

 _But he wasn't like other seven year-olds. He didn't talk until age three, when he asked her in a perfectly articulate manner if she would pass him his blue crayon. He still clung to her legs like a toddler and only spoke to people he knew well and trusted. The doctor called it selective mutism, Ganondorf called it an early sign of weakness._

 _He shrugged. "I like rocks."_

 _"I know you do," she said, resting her chin on his head. "Will you read to me?"_

 _He nodded, jostling her head around._ _"Corundum is a rock-forming mineral that is found in igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary rocks. It is an aluminum oxide with a chemical composition of..."_

* * *

His plan was simple: if he wanted to get out, he needed friends. In his experience, friends were always easier to manipulate than enemies.

Not just any friends, though. In order to escape, he needed very specific friends. The skinny translator man (Shad) who spoke his language. The two guards outside his cell (whose names he didn't know) had weapons and keys. And the princesses, who had influence.

He'd put on his best "reformed sinner" act, earn their trust, and be back among the sand of the desert in no time.

At that moment, the door to his cell slid open, revealing the translator.

 _Showtime._

Shad took his usual chair in front of Link's glass cell, setting his bag on the ground and pulling out his notepad and recorder like he always did.

"Okay, Link," he said in Gerudo. "The princesses will be joining us shortly. I hope you will feel comfortable enough to talk to them, even if it is just a few words."

Link nodded, then said, "Your Gerudo is very good. Where did you learn?"

Shad jumped as if startled, looking up at Link with the wide eyes of a child who had seen a ghost. "Oh, uh, I... I went to school in Termina. They offer many language classes there, so I learned Gerudo, Labrynnian, and Twili."

"You must be pretty smart."

Shad shrugged, flushing slightly. "I suppose. I have just always been good with languages."

"Did you study anything else?"

"Would you mind repeating that slower? It has been a long time since I have practiced a conversation," Shad said apologetically.

Link nodded. "Did you study anyth-"

"Oh, 'did I study other things!' Yes, I studied both anthropology and communications. They are very interesting subjects. What about you? Did you attend university in Gerudo? How old are you?"

"I am eighteen, but I... I won't be allowed to attend university. I have to focus on other things, so I study independently," Link told him.

"It is a shame you cannot study at university. You seem very bright for your age," Shad observed.

Link grinned. Shad was easier to chat up than he had originally thought. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that his people were holding him captive in an attempt to squeeze information from him, Link supposed Shad would be the type of Hylian person he'd want as a friend.

"It's alright," he said with a shrug. "I learn a lot from books."

Shad opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment, someone's voice crackled through his earpiece, speaking in rapid Hylian. "Oh. Uh-huh. Yes, actually, he's been quite vocal- No, no I did not. I'm sorry, sir. I promise that next time I- yes. Understood. Okay. Thank you."

Link's brow furrowed. "That was Captain Viscen," Shad explained. "The princesses are on their way."

"Oh." He laced his fingers together, looking down at his lap. "I wish I spoke Hylian. It'd be a lot easier to talk to them."

"I could bring you some language books if you'd like," Shad offered. "I'd offer to teach you myself, but I'm only supposed to be down here on 'interrogation business.'"

Interrogation business? That meant the princesses weren't just visiting him to chat. He wasn't sure why, but that left a dull, empty feeling in his chest.

 _She was so nice to me._

"Books would be great," he found himself saying. "Thank you."

"Do you want to learn how to say 'hello?'" Shad asked after a brief pause.

Link looked up. "Yes, please."

" _Hello_ ," Shad said. "H-ell-oh."

"Hu-le-oh."

"Good. H-ell-oh."

"Hu-le-oh. Hleoh."

"Close, try it once mor-"

At that moment, the door to his block slid open, and the princess began filing in, headed by a tall woman with silver hair. They looked like an odd gaggle of ducks, walking in single-file and situating themselves in chairs.

He and Seldah made eye contact, and she flashed him a smile.

"H'loh!" he blurted before he could stop himself. "Hleoh? Halelo?"

The tiny one gasped, and Seldah's smile grew even brighter.

"Hello, Link."

* * *

" _Link?" she called softly._

 _She didn't expect a response, and she didn't get one. He hadn't spoken a word since he'd regained consciousness. He'd just pulled his curtains shut and buried himself beneath a mountain of blankets._

 _"Link, baby, can I come in?" she asked._

 _This time she got a muffled "mmhm" in return. Entering his room, she cracked open the curtains before settling on the edge of his bed._

 _"Can I see your face?"_

 _"Nuh-uh."_

 _She sighed, rubbing his head_ _through the blanket. "Alright. I'll be here, baby, you just let me know when you're ready to talk."_

 _It was silent for a few minutes, but then he began to shake, and muffled sobs could be heard beneath the blankets. She pulled back the blankets and allowed him to lay his head in her lap, stroking his hair as he cried._

 _"He's trying to kill me Mom," he choked out. "He wants me dead Mom, he honestly wants me-"_

 _"Shh, honey, no, he doesn't want you dead," she murmured. "You know that the ritual involves-"  
_

 _"Look at this!" he cried, suddenly sitting up. The blankets fell around him, revealing his bare back. Her breath caught in her throat. His wounds were dressed in red bandages- no, his blood had_ _soaked through the previously white bandages. "He cut too deep, Mom. He cut too deep this time, and next time he'll kill me!"_

 _"I..." she didn't know what to say._

 _"He was mad at Them, Mom, mad at Them and he took it out on me, he cut too deep, too deep and and and-" his ramblings become incomprehensible as he began to cry again, and she pressed his head to her shoulder, smoothing his hair down._

 _"Shh, baby."_

 _"Trying to kill me," he kept muttering. "Too deep, cut too deep..."_

 _"It's gonna be okay."_

* * *

"I'm Hilda."

This was the one with the purple hair, the one who looked so much like Seldah.

"Hill-dah."

"I'm Sheik."

This one had the red eyes that reminded him of home.

"Sheek."

"And I'm Hylia!"

This was the tiny one, whose smile was so wide it threatened to fall off her face.

"Hy... Hill-yah."

Seldah, Hilldah, Sheek, and Hillyah. He knew he was pronouncing them wrong, and the knowledge made him irritated and self-conscious. All four pairs of eyes were dripping with condescendence and sympathy.

"He's expressed interest in learning Hylian, so I'm going to bring him some language books to help," Shad told the princesses in Hylian. "He seems very intelligent, all self-taught, too."

"We could help him," Seldah offered.

"They want to help you learn Hylian," Shad told Link in Gerudo.

He shrugged. "That'd be nice."

It'd be a nice opportunity to get closer to them and siphon some information.

"Maybe he could teach us about Gerudo," Hillyah suggested. "Like about the food, or the transmissions."

"It's _traditions_ , idiot," Sheek hissed.

Hillyah stuck her tongue out at Sheek, which Link supposed was some weird Hylian form of communication. Maybe little Jalilah back home was right. Maybe Hylians really did have radiosensitive taste buds.

"They were wondering if you could tell them about Gerudo culture," Shad translated as Link probed the roof of his mouth with his tongue.

He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. 'Tell them about Gerudo culture?' Did they think they were being subtle? They might as well have just straight up asked him about the military's plans! He knew for a fact that not one of them gave even the slightest shit about Gerudo culture.

He shrugged. "Why not?"

Grabbing the picture book off of his cot, he went to sit down next to the glass. The four princesses moved to sit on the floor beside him, crowding to see.

"So, um, what do you want to know?" he asked.

Shad translated.

"Where do you live? Where's the water? Is it really all girls? Do you have a family? What's your favorite food?" the tiny one (Hillyah) asked in rapid succession.

"Slow down, Hy, you're gonna scare him!" Sheek snapped.

Shad asked her to repeat her questions, slower this time, before relaying them all to Link. He smiled, flipping to the picture of the Gates to Fortress.

"I live here," he said pointing. "It's the Gerudo capitol, Fortress. There's three districts, but I live in the military district, Capitol. We have a water source within Fortress, and other towns are based around oases."

Shad repeated this in Hylian.

"It's beautiful," Hilldah murmured.

He nodded after Shad's translation, then moved on to Hillyah's other questions. "It's not all girls, but the population is predomin- mostly women." He thought Shad might not know the word 'predominantly.' "I'm one of three men in Capitol, but there are more in the other two districts."

"Holy shit, that's a lot of lesbians," Hilldah whispered to Seldah as Shad translated.

"Keep your sick gay fantasies to yourself," Seldah whispered back.

"And I... I have a mom and a brother. I miss them very much," he said, trying to keep the impending tears from forming in his eyes. "My favorite food is my mom's homemade flatbread. I could eat it every day of my life."

They were quiet after Shad finished translating.

"I would miss my family too," Hillyah finally said. "My sisters are my best friends."

He smiled sadly as Shad told him what she said. "Then I suggest not getting yourself involved in situations that might result in capture."

They all laughed (somewhat guiltily, as if they weren't sure if they should) at that.

"What're they like? Your family, I mean," Seldah asked.

He waited for Shad's translation, once again wishing he could just speak to them directly. "My mother is the strongest woman I know," he said. "And my brother is my best friend."

"Is your mom Hylian?" Sheek inquired.

Translation.

Link shook his head. "She found me as a baby. I'm the only Hylian in the Fortress."

"Do you have a dad?"

Translation.

He couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine. "I guess you could call him that."

"Wait, you said there were only three males in Capitol," Hilldah interjected. "You and your brother are two. And since Capitol is the political center of Fortress, that makes the third male the King. So does that mean...?"

Translation.

"The King is my dad?" he finished. He was hoping to avoid this tidbit of information. When the King of Hyrule discovered that he had a direct relationship with the King of Gerudo... "Yeah. He is."

* * *

 _"He's pretty good, for a Hylian."_

 _She and Ganondorf stood on a palace balcony overlooking the training yard. Evening Regiment training had just ended, but Link had stayed after his peers to squeeze in a few extra minutes._

 _He was unaware they were watching him. A pair of Simulation goggles painted a graphic war scene before his eyes; all he saw were computerized soldiers and CGI explosions._

 _"He's pretty good, end of sentence. Being Hylian doesn't play any role in his skill as an archer," she countered._

 _A screen on the training yard wall allowed them to see what he saw. He seemed to be in the middle of a supply raid._

 _He elbowed a computer adversary in the chest with force that would break a physical man's sternum. One of his computer arrows caught in a computer hovercraft's engine, sending it crashing to the ground in a trail of smoke._

 _"Hylian or not, he's holding himself_ _back. Watch. Do you see anything wrong?"_

 _An arrow buried itself in the leg of an approaching attacker, releasing a strong electrical impulse that left it convulsing on the ground before it fell unconscious, still twitching. Whirling around, he sent a soldier to the ground with a well-placed kick to the head. An enemy combatant grabbed him from behind, and Link wasted no time in twisting its arm back until it broke-_

 _"He's incapacitating," she murmured. "He hasn't killed a single one."_

 _"It's weakness. He has so much skill and potential as a warrior, and yet..."_

 _Link gasped in pain as the Simulation vest he wore gave him a_ _quick, powerful shock. An arrow protruded from his avatar's chest on the screen, its tip shining red._

 _"He'll never amount to anything."_

 ** _SIMULATION FAILED._**

 _The avatar fell to its knees. Nabooru watched the screen as Link ran a hand through his hair._

 ** _ACCURACY: 100%_**

 ** _TOTAL ENGAGEMENTS: 25_**

 ** _KILLS: 0_**

* * *

"What do you do for fun in a desert? Do you build sandcastles?" Hillyah asked.

Shad chuckled as he repeated her question in Gerudo.

"I have Regiment training two times a day, and I help with harvesting crops four times a week. In my downtime, I study or train. I don't have much time for building sandcastles, but even if I did, the sand in the desert is way too dry," he told her.

The past hour had been filled with mostly trivial questions about his family and interests. He'd found that the four of them were actually quite curious about his life and the desert. Hillyah had even asked him what his favorite color was.

"What's Regiment training?" Seldah asked. She hadn't spoken much. Instead, she leaned her back against the glass cell wall and drew her knees up to her chest, letting her younger sisters ask most of the questions.

"It's the military training program," he explained after Shad asked. "Everyone in the Capitol begin their Regiment training at age eight by choosing either the military or intelligence route. The program lasts ten years, and then you graduate from Regiment and start the career you chose."

"Everyone has to do that?" Hillyah asked.

"No, just in Capitol. Oasis is the farming district, and Industria specializes in manufactured goods."

"Gerudo sounds intense," Sheek commented.

"That's one word for it, I guess."

They lapsed into silence, and Link looked back down at the book in his lap. He hadn't managed to get a singular scrap of helpful information, and if anything, had probably overshared and given them the upper hand.

"That's enough for today." It was the silver-haired woman, speaking for the first time. She stood from her chair and moved to the door. "Come on, girls."

"Aw, Impa, can't we stay?"

"Just a little longer at least?"

"C'mon, Imp, it's not like we have anything better to do-"

She silenced their protests with a raise of an eyebrow. His mother could do that, and it never ceased to scare the shit out of him. "You'll see him tomorrow. Stop acting like petulant children."

"Well, we _are_ petulant children..."

"Quiet, Sheik. Let's go."

He couldn't understand what they were saying, but they didn't sound happy about it. His heart sank a little as they all stood up, signaling they were about to leave. He'd be alone again with just his thoughts and Them to keep him company.

"Bye, Link, see you tomorrow!" Hillyah chirped, bounding out the door behind the silver lady.

"See ya, Link," Hilldah said, flashing him a smile.

"Maybe tomorrow he can tell us about Gerudo torture camps or something cool," Sheik suggested as they made their way to the door.

"Sheik! That's morbid!"

The two of them filed out, leaving just Seldah.

"I'll bring you some language learning books tomorrow, and a few history books if you'd like," she offered.

Shad translated, not bothering to look up from his notepad.

He nodded. "That'd be nice, thank you."

She gave him a small smile, looking up at him through her lashes. He felt his face heating up and looked at the floor. He'd spent all of his life surrounded by beautiful women, but none of them were as kind as Seldah. He wasn't naive, he knew she had probably been instructed to be nice to him in order to get information, but... She was good. He could tell.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Link," she said.

He didn't know how to say goodbye, so he just watched as she walked through the door and disappeared from sight.

* * *

 _"How many of these onions should I dice?" he asked._

 _She looked up from the flatbread dough she was kneading, and smiled at the sight of him. He wore her grandmother's apron and had insisted on wearing a pair of plastic goggles to 'protect his eyes.' "Oh, I don't know. Start with three, and we'll figure it out from there."_

 _"Roger that. Three expertly diced onions, coming up."_

 _"'Expertly diced?' Kind of cocky, aren't we?" Ganon asked, entering the kitchen with an armful of spices from the pantry. "Also, you look stupid."_

 _"If safety precautions make me look stupid, so be it," Link retorted. "At least I don't have your pointy nose."_

 _"That was a low blow," Ganon said, knocking Link in the head with the saffron as he passed by. Link flicked a piece of onion at him._

 _"Boys, be nice," Nabooru sang._

 _"I was only following his example," Link told her, peeling his second onion. "Sounds like someone needs to be a better role model."  
_

 _"You are such a little butt baby," Ganon said. "Hand me that pan?"_

 _"A 'butt baby?'" Link repeated, handing him the pan._

 _"A_ little _butt baby," Ganon corrected him, pouring a generous amount of olive oil into the pan. "Plop your onions in here when you're done."_

 _"I can't believe I'm being called a little butt baby in my own home. Mom are you hearing this?" he asked, scraping what onions he had into Ganon's pan._

 _"I just can't believe my twenty-three year old can't think of a better insult_ _than 'little butt baby,'" Nabooru said with a smirk. "I feel like you can do better, Ganon."_

 _"Mom, don't encourage him."_

 _"Give me a second, Momma Nabs, I'm sure I can_ _come up with a couple good ones," Ganon said, setting the pan on the stove and turning on the heat._

 _In a matter of seconds, the kitchen was filled with the sound of sizzling oil and the smell of frying onion. "Don't forget to add the chicken stock," she reminded them._

 _"Got it," Ganon called, reaching into the refrigerator, where the cuccoo had been marinating overnight. "Pass me the sumac, Link?"_

 _Link obliged, and Nabooru smiled. She loved these nights, were she got to cook and eat with her boys, where nothing was stressful or bad and Link wasn't gone-_

 ** _Link is gone?_**

"Your Grace?"

The image before her began to fade. Nabooru fought desperately to hold onto the memory, to the smell of onions and Link's laugh and Ganon's smile, but it was too late.

"Your Grace?"

She opened her eyes. She was sitting on the edge of the King's bed, shaking hands folded in her lap. Three tears rolled down her cheeks, and she made no motion to wipe them away.

"Your Grace, you're needed at the Counsel," the attendant said gently, as if not to break what was left of her.

"I'll be there in a minute."

"But they've been waiting, Your Gra-"

"In a minute!" her tone grew harsh, and the attendant shrunk back.

"Yes, Your Grace."

The attendant left, and she was alone again. Her face crumpled again, sobs racking her body. Why were the gods so intent on taking everything she loved from her?

"Little bug," she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "Where are you?"


End file.
